Messenger Bag Mementos
by mabelreid
Summary: A collection of one shots regarding items that may possibly be in Reid's messenger bag. They will be set all through the duration of the series. ***Winner of Best Spencer centric story 2015 Profiler's Choice Awards***
1. Headbands and Hairpins

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_A/n here we have a collection of on shots regarding what might be in Reid's messenger bag. This first chapter is set sometime in the first season. _**

**_Headbands and Hairpins _**

Garcia decided as she hurried down the hall to her office, to never say something like, "It's a glorious spring day. Nothing can go wrong on such a day as this," ever again.

She surveyed the red chiffon rose that had fallen from her brand new headband, and sighed. She'd found it in a fabulous little shop in Alexandria, packed to the rafters with wonderful vintage clothing and accessories. Even the name was fabulous, "Alice's Attic."

"Yeah, and Alice guaranteed her stuff is authentic and well kept."

She inspected the headband and realized the flower had been glued on rather than sewn. "Should have known," she said through clenched teeth.

"Should've known what?" Reid asked as he came around the corner and passed the vending machine just outside the door to the BAU bullpen.

"You can't count on anyone anymore. This stupid rose fell off my headband and I just bought it yesterday. Sure, it's vintage but where's the quality anymore?" She brandished the yellow and red headband in his direction.

Reid raised both eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, men, you never understand the pull of fashion."

He took in her red skirt with yellow flowers and green leaves. A yellow peasant blouse topped it and her hair was pulled back and up in a high ponytail with ringlets around her face. Her glasses matched the blouse and she wore painfully high, scarlet shoes that looked to him like she might tip over and fall at any moment. Red lipstick covered her lips and a chunky pendant shaped like a red heart with matching earrings completed the look.

He saw how JJ and Elle dressed, as well as the other female agents in the Bureau and he thought that Garcia wasn't like them at all. He didn't know much about fashion, but he thought that Garcia had a style all her own. He opened his mouth to say so, but she interrupted him.

"Dr. Reid, you're very nice, but you don't understand."

"I didn't say anything," he pointed out.

"No, but you were about to," she said.

"How do you know?"

"Because I can see it on your cute face," she teased.

He decided not to attempt a reply. Instead, he pulled his messenger bag from his shoulder and reached inside.

"Here," he said and handed her a small piece of metal that looked suspiciously like a bobby pin.

"You have a bobby pin in your bag," Garcia asked.

"Well, yes, there are all kinds of uses for bobby pins."

She put both hands on her hips. "Are you planning to pick someone's lock?"

"No," he squeaked indignantly. "There're more uses for bobby pins that picking locks."

"Like holding a fancy hairdo in place."

"I wouldn't know about that."

"I know I'm going to regret asking, but what other uses?

"You can use it to squeeze out toothpaste by sliding it over the end and pushing the paste toward the top. That way you don't waste it."

"Is that it?"

"You can secure a loose end of a belt, or clip an open bag of chips. They make great money clips and you can dip then ends in nail polish to make great fingernail art."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What would you know about fingernail art?"

He was saved from answering when JJ walked by in a tight grey sweater and a blue pencil skirt that conformed to her small body. His face went bright red and he coughed. "Hi, JJ," he stuttered.

"Hi, Spence," she smiled brightly at him. "Hey, Garcia, great headband."

"It was until the rose fell off. I'm going to see if I can use this bobby pin to fix it."

They left Reid standing there as if he didn't exist. That was okay. He was used to it and JJ had smiled at him after all. Overall, it was a glorious spring day, the kind of day where nothing could go wrong.


	2. Dinosaurs and Crayons

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

_**A/n thank you all for your wonderful comments. I appreciate all the feedback. You're the best. This chapter jumps forward to around the 8th season. **_

_**Dinosaurs and Crayons**_

"Uncle Spence, how many more minutes?"

Reid put down the file he was reading and observed his four-year-old godson. The boy sat in a chair near Reid's desk with a picture book and a frown.

"Your mommy's talking to Hotch. She'll be through soon."

"Okay…"

Henry dropped his book and folded his arms over his chest. His pout made Reid want to laugh.

"I have something for you," Reid said.

He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a coloring book. He showed it to Henry who slid off his chair and took the book. "Wow, dinosaurs."

Reid fished in his bag for something else. "You need these."

Henry took the box of crayons and opened the book.

"Wait a minute," Reid said.

He pulled the chair up to the right side of his desk, but Henry was too short to reach it. "I have an idea."

Reid set him on the floor, and then opened his desk. He had an old phone book in the bottom drawer he'd never bothered to toss out. He put it on the chair, raised it to its full height and set Henry on the phone book.

"Here you go."

"Thank you, Uncle Spence."

"You're welcome."

"Do you like colors?"

Reid picked up the box of crayons from his desk and studied it. "I used to like coloring books when I was your age. Sometimes my dad would bring them home for me. I liked to read, but I liked to color, too. My mom taught me to draw, but I'm not very good at it.

"I like to draw pictures of my house and mommy and daddy."

"I think those are great things to draw."

Several minutes later, JJ came out of Hotch's office. She hurried to Reid's desk, then stopped and stared. A blond head and a brown head were bowed over something on Reid's desk. When she got close, she realized they were working on different pages of a dinosaur coloring book.

"Hey," she said to both of them. "What're you doing?"

"Mommy," Henry squealed. "Uncle Spence gave me colors."

"I can see that."

"Hi, JJ," Reid said. "You done?"

"Yes…"

"Do we have to go?" Henry whined.

"Yes, we have to go. Daddy's waiting for us."

Henry pouted again, so Reid collected the crayons and the coloring book. "Here, you can keep these."

"What do you say," JJ admonished the boy.

"Thank you, Uncle Spence."

"You're welcome."

JJ smiled at Reid and rubbed his forearm. "You don't have to do that."

"I had a hunch he might be a little impatient today."

"You're the best," she said.

He grinned at her. "No, I just love him."

"I know you do."

Spencer hugged Henry goodbye and watched them leave. Henry turned around and waved at him as they went to the elevator. Reid waved back and picked up his file. One more consult to go and then he could go home.


	3. Poker and Pills

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

_**A/n thanks again to all my readers and those that have made comments. You're the best. **_

_**Poker and Pills**_

Emily sneezed three times in quick succession. "Damn it," she cursed as she pawed through her go bag for tissues. "I hate spring."

"Actually, the pollen count in Virginia is low for this time of year," Reid informed her from over the top of his poker hand.

"We just spent the last three days in Wyoming. What's the pollen count there?"

Reid opened his mouth, and then shut it with a click when she glared at him. "Don't say it!"

"You asked."

"Reid," Morgan interrupted. "What did I tell you five years ago?"

Reid rubbed the bridge of his nose with his right hand. "Never mess with a woman that carries a gun."

"Well," Emily said with exaggerated politeness to Morgan. "It's good to know you give useful advice, once in a while."

"Girl, I always give useful advice."

"Apparently, you don't know how to take it!"

He grinned at her. "Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood before you pull out your gun and shoot my man over here."

"I'm fine," Reid said loudly.

"Why don't you bet and we'll see how fine you are!" Emily blew her nose and stared Reid down until he made his last bet. "Show me your cards."

He put down his straight in diamonds and smirked at her. She threw down her cards. "That figures. I'm never playing card with you again."

"You said that last week."

"Reid, I swear…"

"I told you," Morgan directed to Reid. "You better watch yourself."

"You should listen to Morgan," Emily sniffed and blew her nose again.

Her eyes were watering, and bloodshot. Her nose was red and chapped. "I can't believe this. My head is stuffed and when we start our descent, it's going to explode.

Reid opened his mouth, but Morgan shook his head. "I wouldn't if I were you, kid."

"I was going to say," he began with an irritated glance at Morgan. "I have something that'll help."

"I don't want more statistics." Emily growled.

Reid held up both his hands. "I'm going to reach into my bag, slowly."

"Cute," Emily said with narrowed and moist eyes. "Get on with it. It can't be worse than this."

He reached for his messenger bag and flipped over the flap. He came out with a bottle that rattled when it shifted in his hands. He put it on the table and pushed it across to Emily.

"What's this?"

She picked it up, read the label and looked up at Reid. "Why do you have over the counter allergy meds in your bag?"

"I remembered that you have allergies in the spring, so I put these in my bag just in case you needed them."

"Thanks, Reid," Emily sniffed.

"If you take them right now, your head should be clearing out by the time we land."

Reid swept his winnings - a considerable stack of peanuts and pretzels -toward him with a large smile. He gathered up all the cards and began shuffling them when Emily left to get some water for her pills.

"Nice one," Morgan remarked. "Way to suck up to Prentiss."

"I wasn't sucking up to her. She's sick."

"Whatever," Morgan grabbed his coffee cup and winked at his friend. "You should take advantage of her good will."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Morgan decided not to comment on Reid's innocent smirk. "Want more coffee?"

"Nope, I'm fine."

Morgan left the table and Reid began a game of solitaire as he munched on a pretzel. He'd won another game of poker, Emily would soon feel better, and they'd solved another case and saved an innocent woman from a horrible death. By his calculations, it was a good day's work.


	4. Earplugs and Phone Chargers

**_Disclaimers: see my profile_**

**_A/n thank you all again for your wonderful support of this story and the ideas you've sent my way. This is set sometime in the fourth season. Enjoy. _**

**_Earplugs and Phone Chargers_**

"I hate conventions," Morgan complained as he followed Reid toward their hotel room.

"Look at it this way," Reid, responded while inserting his key card into the reader. "This time you're not roommates with Hotch."

Morgan dropped his bag on the bed nearest the door and sat on the edge. "True."

"I promise I won't stay up half the night reading," Reid said in the attitude of "Cross my heart hope to die."

"When have I heard that before," Morgan retorted.

"If you promise not to snore," Reid continued as if he didn't hear his friend.

"I don't snore."

Reid rolled his eyes. "How many times are you going to deny it?"

"I'll deny it every time you say it."

Reid heaved out a long-suffering sigh. "At least I remembered my earplugs this time."

"Good, then I won't have to listen to you complain."

"I think I'll take a quick shower," Reid informed him.

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When Reid exited the bathroom half an hour later, dressed in an old pair of grey sweat pants and a blue tee shirt with FBI emblazoned on the front, he found Morgan cursing loudly and pacing as if he meant to slam his fist into the wall.

"What?" Reid asked, long used to Morgan's temper.

"My cell phone is dead."

"Maybe you talk to Garcia too much," Reid suggested.

He didn't flinch when Morgan rounded on him with a glower that could rival Hotch at his best.

"I spoke to Garcia twice today for a total of five minutes. How could that drain my battery?"

"Why don't you charge it?" Reid asked the obvious.

"Because I forgot my wall charger," Morgan said between clenched teeth.

"Why didn't you charge it yesterday?"

Morgan looked as if someone had put salt in his coffee. He grabbed his bag and hurried to the bathroom while muttering under his breath.

Reid heard the words, "insufferable, genius and thinks he knows it all," as Morgan went through the door. Reid grinned and began to rifle through his messenger bag.

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When Morgan exited the bathroom, Reid was sitting up on his bed, reading a thick book with a title in a completely unknown language. He shook his head and turned for his bed. He stopped and stared down at the object lying in the middle.

"What's that?"

"It looks like a cell phone charger to me."

"Reid!"

"I happened to have an extra charger and cable. You might as well use it. It'll stop you from complaining all night."

Morgan picked up the charger. "Thanks, pretty boy."

"You're welcome."

Morgan plugged in his phone, Reid went back to his book and peace reigned again between brothers of the badge.


	5. Directions and Dog Treats

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**_Directions and Dog Treats_**

"Nice going, Morgan," Rossi observed as they turned down a rutted and snow covered road in their borrowed SUV.

"The GPS is screwed up," Morgan growled back.

"I told you we should have picked up some maps," Reid put in.

Morgan scowled at him in the rearview mirror. "I remember the last time you navigated for me. We nearly wrecked the SUV."

"You were driving too fast for me to keep up," Reid said. "Don't blame it on me."

"Reid -"

"Stop it," Rossi said. "There's a house at the end of this road. We'll ask directions."

"Morgan doesn't like asking for directions," Reid interposed.

"Keep it up, pretty boy and I'll -"

"I said enough!"

The house, with peeling white paint, sat in the middle of mud and the snow. An old Ford truck with a rusted tailgate sat diagonally across the front yard. A dog, with floppy ears and black and white spotted coat, raced around the corner of the sagging porch and began barking at the truck

"We better do something. That dog's not happy."

"No way, kid, that dog will eat you alive."

"How do you know?"

"The Reid effect!"

"Oh," Reid waved that concern away. "I have something that's perfect for this situation."

He got out of the truck and Morgan winced when the dog turned its attention on Spencer. He could hear the dog barking, but Spencer didn't flinch. Instead, he reached into his bag and gave the dog something. The dog took whatever Spencer had in his hand and began to chew enthusiastically.

Morgan and Rossi left the truck in stunned silence. Rossi had begun to make friends with the panting and grinning dog when a large man with a scraggly beard and ragged clothes came out of the house. He didn't look too happy and he carried an axe, which he buried in a stump before approaching the men.

"What do ya want?" He asked irritably. "I got wood to chop.

"We're a bit lost," Rossi began. "Can you tell us how to get back to route 34?" He pulled his badge from his pocket and showed the man. "I'm Agent Rossi, and this is Agent Morgan and Agent Reid."

"Don't care who you are, but I don't like feds.

He was trying to get his dog's attention but the mutt was too busy licking Reid's hands.

"What do I look like, the yellow pages?" He finally said.

"We're sorry to interrupt your chores," Reid said. "We'd really appreciate your help."

The man regarded Reid with bloodshot eyes and then he smiled. His lips skinned back over yellow and broken teeth. "Well, seeing as how Jasper there thinks yer okay… Jus turn around and go left at the road and then right at the next fork, then you'll find Route 5 and five miles north you turn left again for Route 34."

"Thank you," Rossi said.

Morgan tried to get Jasper's attention, but the dog sat right next to Reid was though he was ready for a long visit.

The dog tried to jump in with Reid when they said their goodbyes, but the man pulled him back and spoke sternly to him.

"Jasper, get over here, you dumb mutt."

"What the hell was that?" Morgan demanded of Reid when they were safely inside the truck.

The dog began to howl as the man dragged him away from the SUV.

"Yeah, what's with the dog treats in your bag? Rossi asked.

They turned their eyes on Reid, who raised his eyebrows in confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on, man. We all saw you bribe the dog."

"I didn't bribe him! I thought it was prudent to distract him."

Morgan grinned as he started the truck. "Is that what you were doing?"

"Yeah, and it worked. Dogs can tell when someone has good or bad intentions."

"That dog was going to rip your throat out until you bribed it," Morgan countered.

"I didn't bribe him!"

"Let's get back on the road," Rossi said. "We're supposed to meet Hotch, JJ and Emily in exactly 30 minutes. This little detour cost us five miles according to Mr. Personality." He indicated the man who'd removed his axe from the stump and was petting the dog's head while staring at them

"Alright," Morgan said and began to back the truck around. "I still say you bribed him."

"Morgan!"

Reid watched the dog until Morgan had the SUV pointed back in the opposite direction. He'd finally had the chance to make his experiment and maybe now he'd think about getting a dog of his own.


	6. Pretzel Sticks and Home Remedies

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_**A/n thank you all again for your kind reviews. I'm so pleased you're all enjoying these little one shots. Let's see what Reid has in his bag today, shall we?**_

_**Pretzel Sticks and Home Remedies**_

"Hey, Reid," JJ greeted as she approached the poker game he played with Morgan.

"Not now, JJ," Morgan hissed between his teeth. "I'm about to win."

"Excuuuse me," JJ retorted. She waved him on irritably. "I didn't realize I interrupted important affairs of State."

"Cute," Morgan said as he pushed the last of his pretzel sticks into the pot. "Show me what you got, Pretty Boy."

Reid smirked in triumph and laid down a Royal Flush.

"Damn it," Morgan growled and threw down his cards. "I shuffled this time. How the hell did you do that?"

"The implication being that I cheat, if I shuffle," Reid shot back while collecting his winnings.

"I'm not implying, I'm saying it out right."

"Hello… I need to speak to Spence, if you don't mind," JJ interrupted.

"Fine with me," Morgan said. "I'm never playing poker with the genius again."

"You said that last week," JJ, reminded him.

Morgan narrowed his eyes and growled under his breath.

"You don't scare me," JJ said. "Go call Garcia. She'll stroke your ego."

"Is that the best you can do?" Morgan said as he vacated his seat.

"Far be it from me to kick you when you're down."

"I'm going to strain something laughing."

Morgan moved off with his phone in hand. JJ giggled and Reid raised his eyebrows. "Hi," he said and crunched on a pretzel. "Why did you chase Morgan away?"

She sat and reached into her pocket and pulled out a small bottle. She handed it back to Reid. "Thanks for this."

"It worked?"

"Yeah, it worked."

"You can keep it if you want."

He held out the bottle to her. She shook her head. "No."

"It's alright. I have another bottle at home."

She smiled and took back the bottle, "You're a life saver."

"What's that?"

JJ glared up at Morgan, who stood behind them with a cup of coffee in his hand.

"That was a short conversation with Garcia, is she mad at you?"

"No, she's not mad at me. What's in the bottle?"

"It's top secret," Reid put in calmly.

"Don't start that with me again."

"Then go away, it's none of your business."

Morgan went away but he left them with a smirk on his face that made JJ roll her eyes behind his back.

"I saw that," Morgan said over his shoulder.

"That's was great," JJ said and high fived him. "What's with "top secret?" She wanted to know.

"It's something I said when he wanted to know about our football date."

She grinned at him. "Nice one."

"Thanks."

"Last night was the best night's sleep I've had in ages"

"You're welcome."

"You've got some interesting stuff in that bag of yours," she gestured to his messenger bag, "but I never thought you'd have the cure for insomnia."

"Well, it's not a cure per se, just a homeopathic remedy Maeve told me about."

She watched his eyes go far away and sad. "I'm sorry," she began.

"It's okay." He held up a hand. "Every day it gets a little bit easier to live without her."

"Spence, if I -"

"You don't have to say it. I know," he said with a sorrowful smile. "I'm just glad I can share the wonderful things she taught me."

JJ reached over and squeezed his hand. "Me too."

She watched him sit back; close his eyes and go to sleep. He always reminded her of a small child when sleeping. Her eyes began to sting, so she closed them and thought of Henry and Will. She had so many things to bless her in her life. If the death of Maeve and Spence's heartbreak, had taught her anything, it was to be grateful for every day she had with the ones she loved.


	7. Cemeteries and Chess Pieces

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_**Cemeteries and Chess Pieces **_

Reid shut the door to his car. It went with a clunk that made him jump. He shouldn't make any noise in this place, a sacred place, the final resting place for his mentor, friend and one-time father figure; this quiet place with its rolling hills and gentle breezes.

He put his bag over his head and walked down the sloping ground and onto the green grass. His feet whispered over the lawn and past headstones that were set into the ground. He didn't know if he liked modern cemeteries. They all seemed to resemble public parks instead of places of burial.

The grave at the end of the row didn't have a headstone. It was too new. Three days ago, they'd all gathered there to say goodbye, but it wasn't enough.

He crouched down and sat crossed legged at the head of the grave. He tried to think of something to say that would ease the pain in his heart, but the words wouldn't come out.

"I came here," he finally said as his eyes began to sting, "to say goodbye, but I don't know the words to do it."

He wiped angrily at his eyes. "I have so many things I want say, but here I am and I can't say any of it."

He looked up at the sky that was too bright and blue over his head. It should be gray and rain swept, like in all the books or in the movies.

He sighed and reached into his messenger bag. "I brought this for you. He pulled out a knight and set it on the grass next to the marker that had a number rather than a name. The chess piece should have looked ridiculous, but instead it looked like it belonged there.

"Do you remember this? It's part of the chess set you gave me."

He picked it up again and ran his long fingers over its carved surface. It was smooth, and cold. He shivered then smiled. The knight felt better in his hands than tears on his face.

"I remember the first time I beat you. I was so excited when you gave me the tickets to the Red Skins game and I finally had the excuse to ask JJ on a date. I had such a crush on her. I thought I hid it so well, but you knew. I think you also knew she didn't feel the same way and it wouldn't work out.

I'm glad it didn't work out. She's become one of my best friends and I have Henry. He's so great. I wish you could've known him, Gideon. You would've loved him too."

He picked up the knight and turned it over in his hands. It had warmed a little from the sun and he smiled. "I think I understand why you left after Sarah died. When Maeve… um, when she was murdered, I wanted to die and I most certainly didn't want to go back to all the blood, and pain and waste. How could I, when my profiler skills failed her?"

He laughed, but it was a chilly sound in all the sunlight and warmth on his shoulders and hands. He put the knight back on the ground near the marker.

"I know what you'd say if you were here. You'd say the same thing everyone else said, that it wasn't my fault, but you'd be wrong just like them. It was my fault; I should have gone to the team as soon as I knew about the stalker. She'd be alive now, if I had."

He wiped away a tear that overflowed his left eye, and gazed at the sunlight winking off the surface of the knight as it sat there in the sun.

"I went back because I realized there was nothing else I could do. I failed Maeve, but I could make it up by not failing others."

He picked up his bag and got to his feet. "Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you, Gideon. Thank you for everything you taught me, for being there when I needed you, even if it was only in my memories of you, and thank you for being like a father to me. I love you."

He resisted the urge to look back as he walked to his car. It was over, it was finished and like it or not life went on.


	8. Poker Chips and Bedtime Snacks

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

_**A/n thank you all again for your wonderful support of this story. Please enjoy the next chapter. **_

_**Poker Chips and Bedtime Snacks **_

When Reid returned to his desk, everyone was gone for the day. He looked at his watch and saw that it was just after seven pm. The only light in the bullpen was over Emily desk.

"Why are you still here?"

She looked up from a supplemental report on their last case. "I was just finishing this report and then I'm outta here."

"I'm ready to go, too. Wanna get some coffee before we get the train?"

"That sounds fabulous. I'm ready to fall asleep on my feet, and I still have to pack."

"You'd think we'd be experts by now," Reid observed.

Emily smiled as she signed the last page of her report. "Yep… I'm going to take this up to Hotch's office and then we'll leave."

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"I should be packing instead of sitting here, eating this totally fattening muffin."

"A small snack before bed can be beneficial."

"Yeah, if it's nutritious," Emily agreed. "I don't think this muffin is what a dietician has in mind." She held up the cream cheese and spice muffin.

"That's true," he agreed. "Emily?"

"Hm…"

"Are you going to tell me about Sin to Win?"

"Nope!"

"Please…"

Emily looked into his eyes that always reminded her of warm melted chocolate and sighed. "As I told Morgan, if you have to ask you can't handle the answer."

"Come on," he pleaded.

"No."

"Can I at least have some of your muffin?"

She grinned and broke off a large chunk and handed it to him. He took it and bit down. "Mmmm, I can see why you like it," he observed.

"They are pretty delicious."

"As you're determined to go to Atlantic City for this "Sin to Win" weekend," he reached into his bag and pulled something out, "this is for you."

"What is it?"

"Hold out your hand."

"Reid!"

"Hold it out," he insisted, "and close your eyes."

"I'm not closing my eyes."

"Come on, it's a surprise."

She rolled her eyes at his pleading expression. "You know, one of these days your eyes will not get you what you want."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't," she said sourly. "Since I need to get home, I'll play along." She closed her eyes and held out a hand.

Something hard and warm dropped into her palm. She opened her eyes and saw a poker chip lying there.

"What's this?"

"I figured you might need some luck."

"You don't believe in luck."

He flushed pink in the cheeks and couldn't meet her eyes, "As you know, I'm banned from casinos on both coasts."

"You count cards," she reminded him.

"I plead the fifth," he said, airily.

"Hey, this is me you're talking to. I've played cards with you."

"I'm just hedging my bets."

"I guess the casino owners don't look at that way."

"Anyway," Reid continued. "I played my first poker game in a casino on my twenty-first birthday. I kept that as a souvenir from my winnings. It was my good luck charm till I got banned."

"Thanks," she reached out and squeezed his hand. "I appreciate the thought."

"In any case, maybe it'll bring you good luck."

"Anything's possible."

"Let's go," Reid said as he finished his coffee. "As you said, you need to get packed."

Emily took Reid's arm as he passed her. "Lead on, kind sir."

He favored her with a smile as they headed for the door. He knew Emily could take care of herself, but just as a precaution, he'd talk to Garcia and have her do a little research on this, "Sin to Win," weekend.


	9. Minibons and Moist Towlettes

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_**Minibons and Moist Towletts **_

"Are you going to tell us what's in the bag?" Rossi demanded of Reid as the jet finally reached cruising altitude.

"Yeah, it smells fabulous," Kate, commented.

Morgan and JJ were watching him closely. Hotch had one eye on a report and the other eye on Reid. He wore his usual suit, tie and scowl, but there was a hint of the smile around his eyes.

"I picked something up at the airport."

"We know," JJ interrupted. "You were late."

"I thought we could use a pick me up after that last case."

They all nodded eagerly. "It doesn't smell like eighteen year old scotch," Rossi put in with a grin.

Reid screwed up his face in disgust. "This is better than eighteen year old scotch."

"Nothing is better than eighteen year old scotch," Rossi insisted.

"Alright, can we get on with it," Morgan broke in. "My stomach is growling."

Reid pulled a paper bag from inside another plastic bag and Kate squealed with delight. "You didn't," she sighed and grabbed for the bag.

"What's Cinnabon?" Rossi wanted to know.

"Where have you been, under a rock?" Kate said as she opened the bag and breathed in the cinnamon and sugar goodness that wafted out.

She completely missed the irritated look Rossi threw to her. JJ said. "They're only the best cinnamon rolls outside of my mother's baking."

"There are napkins in the bag," Reid said.

Kate grabbed one and used it to remove two of the mini cinnamon rolls Reid had bought.

"Oh man, they're tiny," Morgan complained.

"There's two dozen in there," Reid said.

"Well in that case…"

"Hey, slow down," Kate slapped at his hand.

"There's enough for everyone," Reid squeaked.

"Stop acting like children," Rossi commanded.

"I'll try one," Hotch said and the rest of them stopped in their tracks.

"Uh, yes sir," Reid said and stabbed one with a fork he'd been using to distribute the treats.

Everyone waited as Hotch put it in his mouth and chewed. He looked up to see all of them watching him. "What?"

"I think they're waiting for your verdict, Aaron." Rossi said with a grin.

"You said there're more," Hotch commented.

Kate laughed. "I think that means he likes them."

"Why are you all surprised?" Hotch wanted to know. "I like a good snack as much as the next person. Jack would love these," He observed.

Reid gave him another as the rest of the team only continued to stare. "Here you go."

"Carry on," Hotch said and smiled.

"Since we have Hotch's approval," Rossi said and popped one in his mouth. "Hey, these aren't bad."

JJ returned from the little kitchen area with two mugs. She gave one to Reid. "Thanks…"

"I could go for a cup of hot chocolate," Kate said.

"I think there's some in the back," JJ said.

"Really?"

She slipped out of her seat and hurried to the back of the jet. By the time, she returned with a cup of hot chocolate the atmosphere was quite festive, with the minibons a huge hit.

JJ rubbed at her fingers with one of the napkins. "I love these, but they're messy."

Reid reached into his messenger bag and removed several little packages. He held one out to JJ.

"You've got moist wipes in your bag?"

"Well, yeah," Reid said as if it should be obvious. "You never know when you might need them."

"Give me one of those," Morgan said.

"Excuse you," Kate said, "have you heard of 'please?"

"Please," Morgan said and grinned at her.

Reid gave him a moist towlette. He opened one for himself and cleaned his hands.

"Great treat, Reid. Thanks," JJ said.

"Yeah," Kate agreed. "Thanks."

They all thanked him and for the rest of the journey home there was no talk blood, or death. There were only smiles and for Reid and Rossi, another spirited game of chess.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to fog my mind with sugar and fat, so you can win," Rossi said.

"I didn't mean that," Reid assured him.

"We'll see, white or black?"

"White," Reid said and picked up a pawn.

Rossi nodded his head. "The game is on."


	10. First Dates and Infinity Scarves

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

_**First Dates and Infinity Scarves**_

He shut off the engine to his car and sat staring at the little rental house. It had been easy to find and he was ten minutes early. Should he go to the door now? She wasn't expecting him at this time. She might get mad if he showed up early. She'd think he was a total geek and too eager. She might think he was inconsiderate, too. He drummed his fingers on the wheel and continued to stare at the house. What if someone saw him sitting there watching, and thought he was some kind of stalker? What if they called the police? She'd be furious. He pushed back his hair, rubbed his hands together and straightened his tie. He swallowed hard, coughed into his hand and got reluctantly out of the car. He walked up to the door with the distinct feeling that someone in one of the other houses was watching him and laughing. They must think he was pathetic. He stopped and turned around. He should go back to his car before she looked out window and saw him. She'd be angry if he didn't show up, but she'd get over it. He turned again and looked at the house. She was his friend. He could do this. For once in his life, he'd take a chance and maybe, just maybe, he'd be normal for a change.

His heart began to slam in his chest after pushing the button to ring the doorbell. It was too late to run away.

"Hi," JJ said when she opened the door.

She smiled at him and his hands began to sweat. She wore her hair back in a ponytail. It was like a golden waterfall down her back. She wore a new pair of jeans with a Washington Redskins sweater in the team colors. He liked the red and yellow near her pale skin and blue eyes.

"Um, hi," he finally squeaked. "I'm sorry I'm early."

She grinned at him and took his arm, "Only a couple of minutes. I'm glad because I'm so excited that I've been ready for half an hour."

"You have?"

He felt faint, but he managed not to pull away from her hand on his arm.

"Yeah, this is going to be an awesome game."

"Oh…"

This was a bad idea. She'd only said yes because she loved the football team, not him. It was stupid to think otherwise. He swallowed against the urge to cry like a baby and made his mouth smile at her.

"I guess we should go.'

"Yeah," she said and her eyes sparkled.

He decided it didn't matter if she only said yes because she liked the game. It was worth it to see her smile. Maybe, though, if he acted just the right way, she'd like him.

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When the game was over and he'd taken her back to her little house, his palms began to sweat again. What now? Should he kiss her? He remembered that the boys in school used to brag about kissing or more on the first date. He also remembered some of the girls didn't like it when boys thought they could kiss them. She didn't like him that way, so she'd be mad. They had to work together so it wouldn't be good for him to make her angry. She was his friend and he didn't want to mess it up. He decided he'd give her the gift he bought and see what happened.

"Hey," she said as she joggled his arm. "What are you thinking?"

"Oh, um, I have something for you." He reached into the back seat. "I guess I should have given it too you before the game."

"Spence, you didn't have to -"

He pulled it from his messenger bag and gave it to her. "I didn't have time to wrap it up."

"This is gorgeous," she breathed. "Where did you get it?"

"I had help from a friend," was all he would say. "It's call a L-love P-print Infinity S-scarf," he stuttered.

The scarf was red with the Washington Redskins logo printed all over it.

"Spence, I-"

"It's okay," he interrupted her hurriedly. "I can tell from your body language that you're uncomfortable. I'm not trying to make you feel like you have to like me or -"

She stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "I like you, Spence. You're a good friend."

"Just a friend," he squeaked.

"I'm sorry, I -"

"It's okay," he said. "I didn't mean to pressure you. I just wanted you have a gift and say thanks for going to the game with me. I know you don't like me that way."

She smiled and rubbed his arm. "You're the sweetest, kindest man I know. I care about you a lot."

"I know," he tried to smile for her, but didn't quite succeed. "I think you're really great."

"Thanks," she said. "It's nice to hear that."

"I'm sure you have lot's of guys that want to go out with you."

"Guys ask me out, but most of them are jerks that love themselves or their fancy cars. I'm still looking for the right one."

"You deserve someone great," was all he could say.

"So do you. I'm sure she's out there somewhere. I just hope I get to meet her when you find her."

He finally smiled at her. "Thanks."

"Now, I'm going to put on this scarf and see what it looks like."

"I should have given it too you before the game, but I was really nervous," he admitted.

"It's okay."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Thanks for taking me to the game. It was fun."

"Yeah, it was fun. I didn't think it would be, but it was."

"Do you want to come inside for some coffee? It's still early I have leftover pizza from last night."

"I don't think that's a good idea, JJ."

"I really am sorry, Spence."

He smiled for her even though he was beginning to feel like crying again. Some man he was that all he could do was go home and cry.

"Thank you for the scarf," She said. "I really do love it."

"You're welcome."

"Can we still be friends?"

"Yeah, I'd like that."

"I'll see you at work," she said and opened the door to the car.

"Um, wait, I'll walk you to your door."

"You don't have to do that," she said.

"Yeah, but my mom taught me that a gentleman always walks a lady to her door."

"Your mother's a smart woman."

He walked her to her house. She hugged him and waited just inside the door until he returned to his car and drove away.

He'd just had his first date. It wasn't all that he hoped or even half of what he'd dreamed, but at least she hadn't laughed at him or tried to humiliate him. She didn't hate him. He hadn't messed it up because she still wanted to be his friend and that had to be worth something. Right?


	11. Chopsticks and Silverware

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

_**Chopsticks and Silverware**_

"Why do we have to eat here?"

Morgan chuckled as they entered Madam Wang's Chinese Buffet. "Because this is the only place open at 1 am." He pointed to the 24 hour sign near the window.

The interior was scarlet and gold dragons and phoenix on the walls, and red carpet on the floor. The main dining area was separated from the entrance to the restaurant by two golden dogs on pedestals with an arch painted with Chinese characters.

"I hate eating Chinese."

Hotch and Rossi were already at their table with JJ and Emily. Morgan gestured toward the large, round table. "Come on, man. I'm starving. It's late, and I'm dead on my feet. I just want to eat and get a couple hours of sleep."

"Alright," Reid said irritably. "Let's go."

The table and chairs were black and the tablecloths scarlet with more golden characters and matching napkins. The dining room was crowded despite the hour. The sounds of clicking glassware and the murmur of voices were better than screams and gunfire in Reid's opinion, so he'd humor the team and deal with their choice of places to eat. Anyway, the aroma of cooking meats, and vegetable in spicy sauces made his stomach growl.

"Come on, you two." Rossi said. "Stop dawdling."

"Dawdling," Emily, repeated as the guys sat down. "What are you, our grandfather?"

JJ giggled, and Hotch smiled. Their server approached with a tray of glasses full of ice water. "Welcome to Madam Wong's. Would you like to order drinks?"

Everyone, except Reid, accepted the offer of drinks because the buffet was in walking distance from their hotel. Hotch, JJ and Morgan were the first to hit the buffet. Rossi took a gulp of his drink then said, "Come on, guys let's get something to eat.

"Yeah, let's go, Reid," Emily agreed

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Reid was looking at his place setting that only had wooden chopsticks when the rest of the team returned with their plates. He sighed and reached into his messenger bag. He brought out a something that was wrapped in a paper towel. He unrolled it and let a metal fork fall into his hand.

"What is that?"

Reid raised his eyebrows at JJ. "It's a fork."

"I know that," she said impatiently. "Why are you carrying one around in your bag?"

He saw that everyone was looking at him instead of eating. "Because I knew that sooner or later, you'd make me eat Chinese again. You did," he waved his hands around the room, "And at a place that doesn't provide silverware to its customers."

"So, instead of learning how to use chopsticks, you decided to carry around a fork."

"Is there a law that says I have to learn to eat with chopsticks?" He shot back at Morgan.

"No, there's no law, kid."

"Then leave me alone and eat your cashew chicken."

Morgan grinned at him and dug his chopsticks into his plate of food. "I think I will," he said and popped the chicken into his mouth.

Reid happily scooped up a mouthful of the egg foo young. "Now that's delicious," he said. "And I don't feel like I'm foraging for food."

Emily choked on one of her barbecued ribs. Rossi laughed and Hotch's mouth twitched around an egg roll.

"This is a civilized way to eat," Reid continued.

"Don't let the staff hear you say that," Morgan warned him.

Reid tossed a won ton at Morgan. "I don't care. I'm hungry."

"Then let's eat so we can get some rest," Hotch said.

"Yes sir," Rossi said and saluted their Unit Chief.

Reid sat back and enjoyed his meal. Yes, he'd brought his own fork, and yes, it meant he didn't have to learn to use chopsticks, but it didn't matter. This time he'd leave with a full stomach, he'd get some well deserved sleep and maybe if, they were lucky, they'd close the case later that day and they could all go home.


	12. Bad Days and Looney Tunes

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

_**Bad Days and Looney Tunes**_

Reid knocked firmly on Garcia's office door. He waited a minute, but she didn't answer him with one of her typical smart mouth comebacks He frowned in confusion. Should he go inside? No, she didn't answer, so she must be busy elsewhere. It didn't matter. His question could wait for a while.

He turned to leave and almost ran right into her. "Um, hi," he squeaked.

She carried a steaming mug and wore a very annoyed expression. Her ruby lips scowled and her hair seemed to bristle from its elaborate updo. He backed away because the fire in her eyes scared him

"What?" She demanded.

"I have this consult and I needed -"

"Yes, I know…" She held out one hand as if to ward him off. "You need me to find something for you that will crack the case. I'm everyone's miracle worker."

"Garcia, I -"

"What if I don't want to be your miracle worker today? What if I want to be left alone/" She shouted.

Two agents passed them in the hall. She stared them down when they looked her way. "Can I help you? She asked irritably.

They both shook their heads and hurried into the bullpen. One of the agents looked over his shoulder before opening the glass doors. Garcia sent him a look that would have killed a lesser man on the spot.

"Garcia, is something wrong?"

"What do you think?"

He opened his mouth, but she pushed around him without another word, entered her office and slammed the door.

He stood staring at the door for a few minutes. He hurried back to his desk and grabbed his messenger bag. "I wouldn't go back there if I were you," Agent Anderson said. "She threatened to upload a virus on my home computer when I said good morning."

Reid ignored him and went back to Garcia's office. He had the just the right thing to cheer her.

"If you value your life, Dr. Reid, you'll go away now." She said through the door when he knocked and called her name.

"I just wanted to give you something."

He pushed open the door despite her telling him to leave, again. She shoved around in her chair and confronted him.

"Do you have a death wish?"

He held up both his hands. "I can tell you're upset and having a bad day. I just wanted you to have this. I bought it for you the other day and was going to give it to you on your birthday on Friday, but I think you need it now."

He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out something that fit into his hand. He turned it over and Garcia squealed. "Oh, where did you find that?"

"I can't name my sources," he said, bravely, because she was usually his source for all things EBay.

"It's beautiful."

"I heard you say you were trying to find one."

She hugged him so hard he thought a rib might crack. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Sorry, I threatened to kill you. I'm having a really bad day."

"It's okay," he said now that he could see the sparkle back in her eyes.

"You're the best, sweet cheeks."

He felt his face going red. "You're one of my best friends," he blurted out. I want you to be happy."

"I am… Now, I believe you had a request for me."

"I didn't do this to get you to work," he said hurriedly.

"I know, but as you all say, I am the resident miracle worker, so hand it over."

She held out her hand and he handed her a list of names for some background checks.

After he left her office, she set the list aside and took a few minutes to admire the newest member of her collection. Then she put the mint condition, still in the original box Looney Tunes Tasmanian Devil, ballpoint pen, in a place of honor right in front of her main computer monitor.

The day, which began with her alarm not ringing, her water heater broken down, and the copy machine running out of paper, among other crises, didn't seem so bad and it was all due to a certain, tall, skinny, genius with a heart of gold.


	13. Windchill and Outerwear

D**_isclaimer: see my profile_**

**_Windchill and Outerwear_**

Emily followed Reid from the police station to the SUV they were to use for their trip to one of the crime scenes. She pushed both hands into her pockets and balled them up into fists.

Reid climbed into the driver's side, and she entered the passenger side. She slammed the door and turned to him. "Hurry up and start the car. It's freezing."

"Actually the temperature's 41 degrees," he informed her. "The wind chill makes if feel like it's 35 degrees, which is 3 degrees above freezing."

She gave him a look that would rival Hotch on his best day. "Oh really."

"Yes, as a matter of fact the average -"

"Don't start quoting statistics about average temperatures. It's the beginning of March, for God's sake. It shouldn't be this cold."

He turned on the engine and didn't speak until she reached for the heating control and cranked them up to full. Cold air blasted into the interior of the truck, but Emily held her hands over the vents anyway. Then she cursed. "Damn it, why does it take so long to warm up?"

He opened his mouth, and then shut it when she glared at him. He decided to pay attention to the directions from the GPS unit in the car. When they reached their destination fifteen minutes later, the SUV was toasty warm and Emily was smiling at him again.

"Um, we have to go around the back of the building," he reminded her.

"I know."

He parked the SUV behind a black and white and switched off the engine. "I just mean that it's going to be cold again."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "So?"

"You were upset about the temperature," he pointed out.

"I'm still mad that it's March and freezing outside, but what can I do about it?"

He pointed to her hands. "Where are your gloves?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I didn't think I'd need them. This area of the country's been so warm the last couple of weeks."

He reached for his messenger bag and pulled something out of the inside. "You can wear these, if you want."

She saw that he had a pair of black, knitted gloves in his hand. They looked cozy and warm to her. She looked up at him and he had such a hopeful expression on his face that she took the gloves and tried them on.

"They're a little big," she said, "but, I can work with that. Thanks, Reid."

"You're welcome."

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but what are you doing with an extra pair of gloves in your bag?"

He smiled at her as they got out of the warm car and into a frigid wind that tugged hard at his hair. He pulled on his gloves and shivered. "I lost a pair of gloves in the middle of January three years ago. I hate having cold hands so I decided to carry an extra pair with me."

She reached out and squeezed his arm. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"What else do you have in that bag?"

He went a little pink in the cheeks. "Why?"

"I'm the new girl on the team. I'm curious and no one else seems to know."

"You talked to the rest of the team."

"Yeah, because you change the subject every time someone mentions it."

"We're here," he said as they rounded the corner of the building and a local LEO met up with them."

"See, changing the subject," Emily hissed.

"Time to work," Reid, answered back.

She glared at him, but it was with good-natured exasperation. He was right; they had a job to do. Still, one day…


	14. Practical Jokes and Prophylactics

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_Practical Jokes and Prophylactics_**

Morgan stepped out of his office when JJ hurried by with a new cup of coffee.

"I need to talk to you."

"What? I'm busy."

"Why? We're caught up on work for once. I'm bored."

JJ entered the office and stood there staring at him with an annoyed expression and her hands on her hips. She surveyed his face and sighed heavily

"I know that look. What are you up to?"

"It's nothing. I just need you to distract Reid for a minute."

JJ crossed her arms over her chest. "No way, Morgan. He's still angry with me over Emily."

"He'll never know. I just need to get him away from that bag of his for half a minute."

"He'll know it was me when whatever you're going to do, backfires."

"I promise it won't come back on you. I'm just going to play a little joke on him."

He watched JJ's eyes and realized after a couple of long minutes that she'd go along with the joke only if he didn't tell her what he was going to do to Reid's bag.

"What are you going to do?"

He held out his hands. "Trust me."

She rolled her eyes. "You do realize that I'm a profiler, too."

"Yes, yes," he said and waved his hand at her. "I can see on your face that you want to help, but you also want plausible deniability."

"Cute," she sniffed. "Alright, what do you want me to do?"

He explained his plan, but left out the details of his part. She shook her head and thought Morgan was out of his mind, but at least Reid wouldn't know she had anything to do with it.

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JJ was getting extremely impatient with Reid. Hours had gone by since she'd distracted Morgan so he could mess with Reid's messenger bag and so far, nothing. She decided to take matters into her own hands.

She went to Morgan and told him what she planned to do. He decided to watch from his office instead of going down to Reid's desk as that would surely tip off his friend that something was out of the ordinary.

Spencer was in conversation with Alex, who stood near his desk when JJ made her move. They were in the middle of the latest Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle.

"Hey, Spence," she hurried up to his desk. "Can you take a look at this file? It just came across my desk. There are some samples of handwriting collected from three different suspects. You're the best at handwriting analysis."

As she reached over to give him the file, she knocked into his bag, which sat on the edge of his desk. It fell over and several items spilled out onto the floor.

"Hey," he cried out. "Be careful."

JJ crouched down with him and began to help him pick up the items from his bag. Alex looked down at the floor and saw something lying near the one of the legs of his desk. She was mostly sure didn't not belong to Spencer. She stepped on it and stood there as he and JJ collected his belongings.

"Thanks," he said to JJ who had the expression of someone that was puzzled and disappointed at the same time. Alex looked up at Morgan and he wore the same expression.

Therefore, the knocking over of the bag hadn't been an accident and the object under her shoe hadn't been there by mistake. She crouched down, picked up the object and pocketed it.

"Alex," JJ said. "You okay."

"Yeah, I thought I saw another pen, but I was wrong."

"From now on, I'm storing this under my desk," Reid said as he held up his bag.

"I think that's a wise idea," Alex agreed.

Morgan had come down to Reid's. Alex saw another look pass between him and JJ. They hurried away in the direction of the break room.

She went back to her desk because Reid had his head in the file that JJ had given him. They'd have to finish their puzzle later.

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Alex followed Reid from the elevator and to the front door. "Reid," she said and reached into her pocket.

"What?"

"I found this on the floor. It fell out of your messenger bag."

He looked at the object in her gloved hand and she saw his face go bright red under the glow of the lights. "I - um, I don't know how - where… I don't understand. That's not mine, Alex. I don't know how it got there."

She held up the condom to the light. "I think Morgan and JJ were trying to play some kind of practical joke on you."

"What makes you say that?"

Alex explained the looks she'd seen pass between their teammates before and after his messenger bag fell off the table. "Did either of them have any contact with your messenger bag?"

Reid thought about it as they made their way to Alex's car. "I don't think so."

"Did you leave the bag alone for any length of time?"

Something entered Reid's eyes. "JJ asked me if I wanted more coffee. I went with her to the break room."

"I didn't see anyone at your desk, but I did go up to see Hotch for a minute and if I remember it was when you were gone."

"Makes sense," Reid said and went quiet."

"Dumb question, I know, but are you upset with them?"

"Yeah, but their little prank backfired, so I'll get over it. I think I'll just pretend as if nothing happened. If this was Morgan's idea of amusement, and I'm sure it was, he'll go nuts not knowing what happened to his prank."

"_We_ will," Alex said and she was smiling."

"Yes, _we_ will," he agreed.

She winked at him and held up the condom. "Do you want this?"

He went a little pink in the cheeks. "No, I'll let you do with it what you will."

She smirked at him. "Chicken," she teased.

He laughed, then sobered. "It's not like I'll have an opportunity to use it in the near future."

Alex touched his shoulder. "Someday, you're going to meet her and then, you never know."

"I hope you're right."

"I am," she said confidently. "Whatever is going on with your mysterious woman on the phone, and you don't have to tell me, you'll resolve it and then you might need one of these."

"I don't know if I believe it, Alex."

"I do."

He smiled a little. "We should go home."

"You're right," she agreed. "Time to pack it in for another day."


	15. Sandwiches and Snooping

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_Sandwiches and Snooping_**

It was just after noon when Reid sat up straight, stretched his arms over his head and yawned. "I called the sandwich shop half an hour ago. What's taking them so long?"

"You know delivery guys," Emily said as she closed a file and put it on top of a teetering stack of files. "They say twenty minutes and they mean forty-five."

"Not great customer service, if you ask me," he closed his file and left it in the middle of his desk.

His phone rang and his face brightened as he spoke to the person on the other end of the line. "I'll be down in a minute."

"See, there you go," Emily pointed at him with her pen. "You can stop pouting like a little boy that lost his favorite toy."

"I'm hungry."

"Yes, I know you are and yet you manage to keep your starved, super model look. I hate you," Emily commented irritably.

"I have a -"

"If you say," Emily interjected, "that you have a fast metabolism, I'll kill you in your sleep and no one will blame me."

His eyebrows went up sharply. "I think you're the one that's hungry. Crashing blood sugar can manifest in irritability and -"

"Stop it and go get the food before the delivery guy calls you again."

He left, with Anderson in tow to get their lunch. As soon as he was at the elevator, she sent out a text to everyone's phones. JJ, Morgan, Garcia and Rossi converged on her desk like a pack of wolves.

"Let's make it fast before he gets back."

Emily grabbed Reid's messenger bag and reached inside.

"I don't think this is a good idea. We're violating his privacy."

"Don't think of it like that," Morgan said. "We've been wondering for years what he carries around in that thing."

"It's none of our business," Rossi said, "However, that's never stopped me."

Emily quickly pulled out a book with a title she couldn't pronounce, they all rolled their eyes. "Nothing new here," Morgan said impatiently.

She found a notebook, two pens, a pencil and a sharpener, some coins and a travel chess set.

"That's it," Garcia said.

"Isn't that enough," said a voice behind them.

Hotch stood behind them with Reid. He stared at them until they all backed away as though Reid's bag contained an explosive device "What are you doing?" He asked quietly.

"I tried to tell them not to do this," Garcia began.

"I don't know what you thought you'd find, but as you can see, it's just ordinary items." Reid said. "Paper for writing my mom, a book to read and a chess set. As a matter of fact, you missed a few items."

He tipped over the bag, and an extra phone charger, a small bottle of hand sanitizer, and an extra speed loader for his revolver fell onto his desk.

"I think you all know the uses for these," he picked up the sanitizer and the charger.

He looked up and met Morgan's eyes. "The speed loader is full. That's six shots. Five," he indicated his teammates, except for Hotch, "and one for luck."

"Hotch!"

"Don't look at me," Hotch shook his head. "You're all on your own."

"What did you think you'd find?" Reid wanted to know.

"Knowing you, the key to the meaning of life," Morgan quipped and earned a stare from Hotch for his pains.

"All of you are on report," Hotch informed them. "I think we all need a refresher course in how to treat other's with respect."

"Not the sexual harassment lady again," Morgan began. "She doesn't -"

"No, not her, but if I catch any of you violating another's privacy, you will go on permanent record and will answer to Chief Strauss. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir."

Reid's phone rang. He picked it up and spoke briefly with someone. He left the bullpen without another word and entered the elevator. Hotch stayed in bullpen until Reid returned with their food.

"I thought you already picked up the food," Morgan said into the silence that was like a cemetery at midnight.

"That last call was staged. I needed an excuse to leave you alone to paw through my bag."

They all resembled pillars of stone until Emily said faintly. "How did you know?"

"We do this job every day and you have to ask."

"The fact that you're a profiler doesn't explain how you knew."

"No," he agreed and there was a twinkle in his eyes now. "I heard you talking to Rossi. The door was halfway open yesterday."

"I told you to be careful," Morgan interjected testily as Emily and Rossi met each other's eyes.

"Next time," Reid said as he pulled his club sandwich and a bag of chips from the bag. "Just ask. You might be surprised.

"Hey," Morgan called as Reid walked toward the break area. "How do we know you didn't remove something interesting from the bag last night?"

Reid actually winked at him. "You don't know, do you?"


	16. New Year and New Beginnings

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

_**New Year and New Beginnings**_

The snow and the cold seemed deeper than in previous years, Reid thought as he trudged through the rapidly increasing drifts behind Emily, Morgan and the rest of the team. They'd finished their case, but were stuck in Butte, Montana until this latest snowstorm blew through.

Luckily, the hotel was several steps up from their usual digs. They all had their own rooms, and the kitchen was still open when they arrived. They decided to have a late dinner in the restaurant and have a toast to the New Year.

"I can't believe we're stuck here."

"At least the hotel was able to extend our reservations. That's lucky for us," JJ replied to Morgan's irritated observation.

"Yeah, but I was hoping to be able to go home for a couple of days."

"You still can," Hotch said as they were led to a table in the back of the dining room.

"It's not the same thing."

Emily took a chair next to Reid, who hung his ever present messenger bag over the back of his seat. She smiled at him and his lips curved up in reply. It was so good to be out of the cold and near friends.

Their server approached in a black and white uniform. Her smile looked practiced and there were dark circles under her eyes. She handed them menus and left after asking if anyone wanted drinks. Rossi and Morgan were the only ones to order. The rest asked for water, and Reid asked for coffee.

"How are you going to sleep?"

Reid just shrugged. "I'll be fine."

"I'm sure you will."

He perused the menu for a long time as the other's talked around him. He kept going back and forth between a burger and a lemon chicken dish. Emily had already decided and was chatting with JJ. When she looked away from Reid, he flicked his eyes over to look at the way her hair fell over her shoulders.

"What are you going to have?"

Reid jolted at Rossi's question. He turned his head to meet the older man's eyes only to see that they were dancing with ill-disguised mirth.

"Um," Reid began with a squeak. He hastily cleared his throat. "Um, I can't decide."

"The server's coming back. You better get it together."

Reid kept his eyes on their server instead of Emily. He ordered the lemon chicken without thinking about it and could barely respond when their food arrived.

He ate without tasting it and was going to excuse himself when Hotch said. "I wanted to tell you all thank you for all the work you do every day. You all go above and beyond for this job and I know you do it without praise or thank you most of the time." He raised his water glass. "Here's to a happy New Year. May it bring us less blood and pain and more joy."

Everyone lifted their glasses. Reid looked over at Emily again. This time she met his eyes and smiled. Her beautiful dark eyes made his stomach jittery and his hands sweat.

"Happy New Year," she clinked her glass to his.

"Happy New Year," he managed to reply without squeaking.

CMCMCMCMCM

Three hours later, Reid left his room and boarded the elevator. The main floor was empty of people and utterly quiet except for the low murmur of the night person on the desk. He rounded the corner and gave her a little wave.

"Is there something I can do for you?"

"Oh no, I thought I'd just sit in the lobby for a minute, if that's alright. Can't sleep."

She smiled at him and her hair color reminded him of Emily. _Stop thinking about her. No wonder you can't sleep._

"That's fine, sir. Please let me know if there's anything I can do."

He missed the way she looked him up and down as he went to one of the long, thin windows that were spaced at four foot intervals across the front of the building.

He surveyed the arched windows with their metal casements that made them look as though they'd been added to the building in medieval times instead of in this century.

The low lights from the desk didn't reach all the way to the front of the building. He walked up to one of the windows and looked out into the storm. The flakes fell in the gold light of the street lamps like crystal teardrops. They whirled around each other and danced to the capricious force of the wind. He shivered a little and was glad he was inside.

"Hey," said a voice behind him.

He jumped and whirled around. Emily was standing there with her back to the dark. He could just make out the contours of her face. Then, she stepped out into the light drifting in from the street.

"What are you doing?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Me either," she admitted.

They stared at the snow falling until he couldn't stand it. Her presence right next to him, the heat of her was making his heart slam wildly in his chest. Every feeling he'd tried to hide and then forget while he believed her to be dead fought to the surface past all the defenses he'd put up when she had returned.

"It's so beautiful."

He turned to look at her and without stopping to think about it, he whispered, "Not, as beautiful as you."

She didn't turn her head to meet his eyes, but even in the low light from the street, he could see color sweeping over her cheeks. "Reid, I -"

He put one hand on her arm to stop the words he didn't want to hear. "I missed you, so much. You have no idea how much."

"I missed you too, but -"

"Emily, please don't say it."

She finally faced him, "Why not?"

"Because it's not necessary."

He turned back to the window. "I have something that belongs to you."

"Oh…"

He pulled an object from his pants pocket and let it swing from his long fingers. It winked a little in the low light the bled in through the windows.

"Where did you find this?"

He swallowed hard. "I took it from your apartment when Hotch and Rossi packed up your belongings. Hotch wasn't happy when I showed up. I told him it'd help me get over my hurt faster, but all I wanted was something of yours to keep. I couldn't ask for anything, you didn't have a will and anyway, I didn't want the others to know. So, I used my magician skills of redirection and took it. I never thought it'd be a big deal, until a week ago when I heard you talking to JJ.

She took the pendant from his fingers and held it up. "My mother gave this to me when I graduated from Brown. She was so proud of me. I finally felt like I did something right by her."

"I'm sorry I took something so important to you. I just wanted to remember you."

The pendant hung on a gold link chain. It was an infinity symbol in white gold and one of her most prized possessions.

"I should have given it back to when you returned. I've been carrying it around in my bag for all these months. I don't know what I hung on it. I'm sorry," he repeated in a low voice.

She put the chain around her neck and let it fall. "Thank you for returning it."

"You're welcome. Do you forgive me?"

She turned to him and smiled, but it was a rueful smile. "I'm the one that should ask for your forgiveness. I know the last time we talked about my faked death I made you feel guilty instead of dealing with your anger. I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "No one but me knows how complicated our lives are because of one man's vendetta, but his son is alive and he will become a man without the influence of his father."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that no father is a good thing."

"Sometimes it's better not to have a parent in your life."

She nodded. "I suppose your right."

They turned to look out at the snow storm and neither realized that the clock had turned twelve and a new year was upon them with all its promise.


	17. Birds and Binoculars

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**_Birds and Binoculars_**

"Why are we up here?"

Reid motioned to the northwest facing corner of the roof. "Because this is the best place to watch."

"Watch for what?"

He smiled at Emily's impatience. "You'll see."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she complained.

"Trust me."

"I don't know if I should."

He grinned at her. "You won't be sorry, I promise."

She sat down with her back against the wall. "How long do we have to wait?"

"Not long," he opened his bag and pulled out rather expensive looking binoculars.

She watched his long fingers adjust the dials and smiled. His hands always reminded her of a concert pianist. They were so delicate and yet so strong. She looked away from his fingers because they were doing things to her stomach and turned toward the setting sun.

"Wow, it's so gorgeous," she breathed.

He lowered the binoculars and followed where her fingers pointed. The light at the horizon was as bright as liquid gold. It melted into rose and then into dark pink, which lightened into violet and then into purple and navy blue.

"Yeah, it's beautiful," he agreed.

He shifted and one of his arms brushed against her flesh. She flinched and goose pimples jumped out on her forearm. He didn't seem to notice until she dared to glance over at him and saw that his cheeks were the same pink as the waning light of the sun.

"Reid."

"Sorry," he squeaked. "I bumped into you."

"It's okay."

She kept her eyes on the setting sun because she didn't trust herself to look into his face and see eyes that were as ancient as the mountains and as innocent as a child. Lately, she'd lost the ability to think straight when she looked into his beautiful brown orbs.

"I never get the chance to watch the sun go down."

"Me either."

"I'm just glad our case is over, we're home and all our paperwork is done."

"Me too."

His apparent inability to answer in "Reid Speak," unnerved her. She looked over at him and saw that he was watching her intently.

"What?"

"You look beautiful," he blurted out.

She was silent for so long, he went red again, this time in obvious embarrassment. "I'm sorry."

She grabbed his arm and pulled him down when he tried to stand. She leaned in and kissed him firmly on the lips. She was about to pull back when both his arms surrounded her and wouldn't let her go until she couldn't breathe.

"Um, wow," was all she could say.

"Yeah."

They were silent until the sky went completely royal blue with just a little gold at the horizon. "Damn," he suddenly said. "We missed it."

She stared at him for a minute and then laughed. "As a matter of fact, you never told me why I'm here."

"The Blue-Headed Vireo. I heard there were some spotted in the area, so I brought my glasses to have a look. They're very interesting birds, but the lights gone.

"I'm not complaining that we missed it," Emily said. "We can always come back tomorrow."

He put down his binoculars and smiled. "Yeah, we can come back tomorrow, if you want."

"I do."

"Emily, about that kiss –"

She put a finger to his lips. The light was fading fast and soon she wouldn't be able to see his wonderful eyes. "I'm cold. Let's get some coffee and talk."

He smiled for the first time in days and it made her heart sing. "I could drink coffee," he said rather casually.

She slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "There's a surprise, Dr. Reid."

He stood up, then pulled her to her feet. She stared into his eyes for another long minute until he kissed her again.

"That's two kisses in half an hour, Spencer. Why?"

"I like you and I decided that fortune favors the bold."

"You may be right," she agreed and led him down to the elevator and to what awaited them outside the BAU.


	18. Handkerchiefs and Earrings

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**_Handkerchiefs and Earrings_**

She hated the airport. Traveling in a world made paranoid by the events of 911 was annoying at best and a major pain in the ass at worst. Tonight, she was stuck in a three hour layover in Dallas. Her phone beeped as she turned from staring out over the tarmac at a jet taxiing into the nearest gate. She read the alert from the app she'd downloaded from the airlines. Damn it, the flight was delayed an hour due to a hurricane off the Gulf of Mexico.

She picked up her carry on and went to the nearest bathroom. It was ten pm and her eyes felt like someone had blown sand into them. She sighed, and looked at her face in the mirror. Here she was, stuck in a strange airport in a strange city, trying to get back home. She blinked hard and put both hands to her face. She couldn't lose it, not now.

Ten minutes later, she returned to watching planes land and take off. She ignored the passengers that moved around her and the growling of her stomach. The thought of eating made her sick.

She turned away from the large window because the light was going and it was getting difficult to see with all the light at her back.

"Excuse me," someone said.

She looked left and a man stood there. He was about six one with wavy brown hair, chocolate eyes, and very thin.

"I think you dropped this."

She looked down and saw that his hand held an earring. She reached up and realized that she was missing one of her earrings. She reached out for it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, I found it over there," he pointed to aisle that ran down chairs that were about half full of dazed looking passengers in various states of wakeful attention. "Have a good flight."

He gave her a little wave and started to walk away. She watched him for a minute, and then without stopping to wonder why, she hurried after him. "Hey," she reached out and touched the top of his left shoulder.

"Can I buy you a cup of coffee?" She asked when he faced her.

He looked at her with something like suspicion and she almost smiled.

"I just want to say thank you, if you're waiting for a plane, that is."

"I'm on my way to Las Vegas."

"Me too."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'm connecting from a flight out of Atlanta."

"I'm from Quantico."

"Where's Quantico?"

"It's not a town. It's a military base. I work for the FBI."

"You do?"

She realized they were headed to a coffee shop at the other end of the concourse. Suddenly, she felt like she could eat.

"Yeah, I'm a profiler for the Behavioral Analysis Unit." He pulled a wallet out of his pocket and showed her a badge.

"Oh, like the guys on that TV show."

He rolled his eyes, and she found it very cute. "No, not like them at all. It's much less glamorous."

"That's not a surprise. It's not like the writers of those shows go for gritty realism."

"True."

They entered the coffee shop and took a seat at the closest booth. The shop had two other customers, a man and woman in a booth opposite them. They talked quietly and seemed like a couple.

"So," she said after the server took their order for coffee, and some of the delicious pastries on the menu. "What's your name?"

"Dr. Reid, um Spencer Reid."

"A doctor too?"

He blushed and it was adorable in the low lights of the coffee shop.

"Actually, I have three doctorates, but not an MD."

"Oh, are you some kind of genius?"

"Yeah," his eyes watched her like someone that was used to rejection because of his intellect.

"I like smart men."

"You do?"

"Yeah, more to talk about. I like a good conversation."

"Me too."

They were silent for a minute, then he blushed again. "Ah, what's your name?"

"Victoria, but everyone calls me Vickie."

"I like Victoria."

The server appeared with their orders. Victoria sipped her coffee because that simple phrase made her shiver. This was ridiculous. He was a total stranger and yet he drew her in like no one ever had.

"Then you can call me Victoria, if you like," she said faintly.

"Okay," he said shyly.

They sipped at their coffees, but didn't speak, she finally said. "I don't usually run after guys I just met, and ask them for coffee."

"I don't usually approach beautiful women in airports," he responded.

"I'm glad I rethought my position on asking out strange men," she said.

"I'm glad I found your earring."

"Me too."

He took another sip of his coffee. "May I ask why you're going to Las Vegas?"

She bit her lip to keep back the tears. "My mother passed away three days ago."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked and -

"It's okay. It's just hard, you know."

"I still have my mother. He took another sip of his coffee but ignored the pastry he'd bought. "I couldn't imagine losing her, even though I know I will someday."

"She was the best," Vickie said. "I love her so much."

Despite her best efforts tears began to roll down her cheeks and her voice squeaked. "Damn it, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, crying is very helpful when you're under stress."

"It's embarrassing," she said and began to root around in her bag. "Damn it, I thought I brought enough tissues."

Spencer reached into his messenger bag and pulled out something white and held it out to her.

"You carry a handkerchief in your bag?"

"Yeah, my aunt gave me a box with my initials on them for my college graduation. She said handkerchiefs are more civilized than Kleenex."

"Thank you," she took the handkerchief and wiped her eyes. "I wish I could stop crying at the drop of a hat."

"It's normal. You lost a parent."

"Yeah, but I should have more control and hold it in until I'm alone."

"Why?"

His genuine confusion made her smile despite the numbing pain of loss in her heart.

"No valid reason, I suppose."

They were silent again for a long time. She wiped at her eyes and her nose, and finally the urge to sob out loud abated back to just under the surface.

"Do you have any siblings?" He asked gently.

"I have five older brothers."

"Oh," the look on his face made her forget her pain for just a minute. She wanted to laugh instead.

"Everyone has that reaction. They drive me crazy, but I love them and my dad."

"I was an only child."

She stopped picking at her pastry. She didn't feel like eating again.

"I can't imagine what that's like," she admitted.

"It was lonely sometimes, but I guess it's hard to miss something you never had."

"That's true."

Reid looked at his watch. "If our plane is here, they should be boarding in ten minutes."

She looked up at the clock on the wall. Had an hour really passed so quickly? "Yeah, I guess we better get back to the gate."

He insisted on paying for their coffee and the food neither of them had touched. It was surreal, this feeling that she knew him, even though they'd spent less than an hour together.

When it was time to board, she stopped him from getting in line. "How long will you be in Vegas?"

"A week."

"Here," she gave him her business card. "Please call me. I'd like to spend more time with you."

"Me too," he smiled at her and pocketed the card. "Have a good trip, Victoria."

"You too, Spencer Reid."


	19. Blood and Innocence

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_**Blood and Innocence**_

Blood… scarlet blood in splashes and drips painted the room like some terrible modern art project made by an artist in the grips of psychotic breakdown. He could still smell the copper stench that had stained the room when he'd entered for the first time.

He opened his eyes and stared at the front of the seat across from him. It was empty just like the small bed in Matt and Sherrie Caswell's home. Their son was gone forever, lost to a man with no conscious and an insatiable appetite for young boys. If they'd just arrived five minutes earlier that day…

He drew in a long breath and reached for his messenger bag. He glanced around but Morgan was off talking to Savannah and Kate was texting Megan. JJ was asleep on the bench, and Hotch was doing paperwork. Rossi was reading near the back of the plane, and all was quiet.

He reached into the bag and pulled out a folded piece of drawing paper. It was creased from repeated folding and unfolding. He opened it again and looked at the picture drawn by small hands. It showed a house, painted in bright watercolors. There was green grass, and purple flowers around the yellow house. Standing near the porch was a small boy in a white and red shirt and blue pants. A man, very tall and skinny stood near him, and held his hand. The man had brown hair, a white shirt, blue pants and a purple tie.

Henry had made the drawing for him a year ago on his birthday. He'd carried it with him ever since because looking at it made him think of all the good things in his life, especially when their cases involved children.

He looked at it until the thought of blood retreated into the back of his head, at least for the moment. He started to fold the picture, when Morgan walked up and put a hand on the paper.

"What's this?"

"It's just a picture."

"I can see that. Why are you staring it at?"

Reid sighed and handed it to Morgan. "Henry made that for me. Go ahead and laugh."

Morgan didn't smile. "Hey, I don't think it's funny, kid. We all have different ways of coping with this job. We have to, otherwise we'd all go crazy."

"Yeah, but it won't keep any of us from burning out one day."

"True, but at least for now, you have something to keep the worst of the blood and death at bay. Hold on to it, as tight as you can."

Reid took the drawing and looked it over once more. It was a bright, colorful portrait of everything that was right in his life. It might be idealistic, and it might be innocent, but Henry had made it and Henry was the best thing in his life.

"I will," he folded it and put it back in his bag.

"Want to go for a drink when we get back."

"I thought you were setting up something special with Savannah."

"She's stuck at the hospital. She won't be home until after 2 am."

"Are you buying?" Reid wanted to know.

Morgan rolled his eyes and Reid smiled a little at the mock outrage. "Yeah, I guess I can buy you a round, pretty boy."

Morgan pulled out his I pod and sat back in his seat. Reid took out the picture one more time, and unfolded it. He'd take a five year old boy's view of the world anytime.


	20. Future History and The Meaning of Life

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**_Future History and The Meaning of Life_**

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please gather around."

A group of thirty students dressed uniformly in purple with palm computers in their hands, surrounded the man who stood near a highly unusual artifact. It was the museum's latest acquisition and they all knew how important it was to their field of study.

Natural light from the museum's glass dome, filled the round room with a golden glow as they all jockeyed for position around the display. Professor Jarenkowski hushed them with a stony glare and "The next person to speak out of turn, will fail the semester."

Immediate silence fell over the group. The professor's voice rang out in the steel and glass room as he spoke. His dark eyes in a triangular shaped face surveyed them all in turn to make sure they would stay quiet. He wore the gold tunic of a Way of Life Master over his small body. His mouth frowned consistently as he ran his eyes over his students. He slid one hand through his hair, as he always did when about to address them,

"This artifact was found in Sector 11 last year."

"But, sir, Sector 11 opened two years ago. Why now?"

"If you allow me to finish, Mister Dunn, I'll explain."

The student next to Dunn elbowed him in the gut. A couple of students laughed. Professor Jarenkowski clapped his hands once. "Ladies and gentlemen," he called irritably. "What did I say at the beginning of this gathering?"

No one answered, but they all looked at each other. "You've all reached the 3rd level Way of Life. Your futures are in my hands, please do not forget that."

"Now," he continued after everyone returned their attention to the artifact. "This was found in Sector 11, in what was known as the City of Mclean in the Old State of Virginia. It has been carbon dated as three thousand years old, or it was buried in 2038 on the old Earth calendar. Who can tell me what it is?"

Everyone looked at each other and most of them were shuffling their feet and avoiding eye contact. A young man with light brown hair, glasses and green eyes tentatively raised his hand. "It's something called a messenger bag. They were popular in the 21st century with young men, as a means of carrying personal property with them."

"Why would anyone want to do that?"

The professor turned his attention on a black haired woman with dark eyes and skin the color of strong coffee. "In the 20th and 21st centuries, women carried purses and some men carried messenger bags and others carried wallets in their pockets. They often contained money, identification cards known as driver's licenses and hand held telephones that also doubled as personal computers."

One of students raised her hand. "Sir, um, why are we opening this artifact? Shouldn't the Science Counsel be the first to see what's inside?"

"The artifact has been scanned and checked for all manner of contaminants. It is safe for us to touch and study."

"Do we know who it belonged to?"

"It was found in an ancient dwelling in the lower level. The building was nearly washed away after the 2038 Tsunami that destroyed Washington DC, Virginia and Maryland. It was protected from disintegration by multiple layers of earth and concrete. We'll be the first one to open it in millennia.

The Professor opened the bag, then stopped and gestured to a young man near the front of the row of students. "Mr. Wickie, you've achieved top level scores on your latest examination. Please," he indicated the bag.

"Really?"

"You're making us wait, Mr. Wickie."

The young man, with wavy red hair and a nose that reminded one of a hawk approached and reached into the bag. "What's this?"

"You tell me."

He opened a folded over section of something he thought was once known as leather. It was just like the material of the bag. Inside was a photograph that was very faded, but he could tell it was a man with curly golden brown hair and dark brown eyes.

"What is that?"

Wickie held the folded leather container up to magnification equipment so they could all see it. He pointed to a gold symbol above the photo and a card that read "Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI BAU."

"It's some kind of symbol," said one of the other students.

"It's a badge, from the same time period."

"I know that name," said the girl with skin like strong coffee.

"Yes, Ms. Thistle?"

"I read about Dr. Spencer Reid in my history class. He was an agent for the United States, Federal Bureau of Investigation as a profiler."

"What's that?" Asked Mr. Wickie.

"It was someone that studied human behavior in the late 20th and early to mid-21st century. Profilers were employed by the government and their mission was to catch violent criminals."

"They didn't have in utero behavior modification in that time period," Ms. Thistle added.

"That is correct. In that time period humans were much more prone to violence and criminal behavior. It wasn't until the discovery of the gene that controls violence, did we eradicate murder, rape and all other violent crime."

"Dr. Spencer Reid was a genius. He'd obtained three doctorates by the time he was twenty three."

"What's a doctorate?"

"It's the same as a 7th level."

"He had three by the time he was twenty three!"

"That's enough," the professor clapped his hands again. "Let's move on. After Dr. Reid left the bureau, he obtained a fourth doctorate, this time in medicine. He found the cure for Schizophrenia."

"What's that?" Asked another male student.

"It was a mental disorder. He found a way to genetically treat patients that manifested the disease in their adolescence. His mother had the disease. She died before he could find a cure for patients that already had the affliction. His work was the basis for the genetic re-sequencing we do in the womb to remove such harmful diseases and violent tendencies, as I mentioned. Now, Mr. Wickie, show us more."

The red headed student drew out another object and Professor Jarenkowski gasped. "Wait, let me see that," he held out his hand.

The students moved in to crowd around the display. "What is it, professor?"

"I can't believe this." He paused for a moment to look closely at the object. "It's called a notebook. This material is paper. Dr. Reid was famous for carrying around a notebook to record his thoughts. He didn't like computers."

"Why?"

"Ms. Polson, I believe we have better things to discuss than Dr. Reid's aversion to the technology of the times."

He opened the notebook and tried to read it. "It's too degraded from air damage. We need to scan this and let the computer translate it."

The students followed their teacher from the room after he'd returned the notebook to the bag. They hurried as a group down a long hallway to another room with several machines that looked like large, rectangular boxes. They were white, and they whirled and chuckled like the water in a creek bed. The professor took the notebook to an attendant and spoke to her in quiet tones. She took the book and held it under a reader.

"There," said the professor. "The computer's scanned the book and reconstructed the notes."

"What does it say?"

"It's a mathematical equation…" He trailed off and went very red in the face.

"Professor, are you alright?"

"It's so beautiful and simple."

"Sir?"

He faced the students, "It's the answer to everything, the meaning of life and how the universe began, all in one equation."


	21. Pencil sets and Progeny

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_**Pencil sets and Progeny**_

"Hey, Dad, where are you?"

Spencer shut his latest reading project and hurried out of his home office to the living room. "Dianna," He hugged her tight and then shook hands with his son-in-law, Dennis."

"Gampa," said a tiny girl with wavy golden, brown hair and her grandfather's eyes.

She wore a little pink hoodie over a purple tee shirt with little yellow and red flowers, green grass and couple of puppies, playing on the front. A pair of jeans and pink shoes completed the look.

He swung her up into his arms despite his bad back. What was a little pain in the face of his tiny granddaughter? "Hey there, munchkin. How are you this fine day?"

"I fine. It's mama's birthday."

"Yes, I know…"

They moved to sit down on the leather couches while Amy babbled about the present she'd given her mother. "I made it all alone," she informed him.

"You did," he asked.

"Uh, huh, and it was the bestest, mama said so."

"It was," Dianna said.

She was an older version of her daughter and a younger version of her father except for her dark eyes that were her mother's eyes. Her hair fell in waves around her face and she smiled like her mother. A little stab of pain lanced his heart, but he forced it down and smiled at her.

"A new watch pales in comparison to the artwork of a three year old," said Dennis and he smiled broadly. "Not that I can complain because I happen to think my little girl is an artistic genius."

"She is," Dianna agreed proudly. "She's definitely talented."

Spencer went to Dianna and hugged her again. "Happy Birthday, my dear."

"Thanks, Daddy."

"I know we said ten o'clock for brunch, but Dianna, I have something I'd like to give you before we go."

"Dad, I told you no gifts. You're springing for brunch at the Eagle Hotel. That's enough."

He smiled at her and despite the gray in his hair and the lines on his face, he was still a handsome man, Dianna thought. She'd thought as a child that he was the best dad in the world. She still thought it.

He went to the antique desk in the corner of the room and opened a drawer. He removed a small gift bag in silver and gold with matching tissue paper and handed it to her.

She took out the tissue paper and gasped. Inside was a beautiful pewter pen and pencil set. The surfaces were carved with Celtic symbols and flowers. "Oh daddy, this is yours, I can't take this."

"You can and you will. I always planned to give this to you on your thirtieth birthday."

"Grandma gave these to you when you were twelve, Dad. You carried them around with you in your messenger bag on all your cases. You used them to write to grandmother every day for years."

"Yes, but I want you to have them, Dianna. You're a lot like her. She would have wanted you to have these."

"They are beautiful," Dennis said.

"Mommy, I hungry," Amy whined and Dianna shushed her. "In a minute, sweetheart."

"No, she's right," Spencer agreed. "It's time for food."

"Alright, but I still feel bad, daddy. These are your favorite."

"And I said, I want you to have them."

She finally gave him her mother's dazzling smile. "Then I accept. Thank you, dad."

She threw her arms around him and hugged him again. "I love you so much," he said in her ear.

"Love you too."

"Let's eat," Spencer said again.

"Yay," Amy cried and they all laughed.

"I think we have time to take a picture of three generations of Reids together," Dennis said. "Sit down on the couch, everyone."

"Dennis!"

"Come on, just one photograph."

"Says the professional photographer," Dianna said and playfully smacked her husband on his shoulder. "The longer we argue the longer we have to wait in line for brunch. Time's a wastin."

She rolled her eyes, but sat with her father in the middle. She and Amy sat on either said like bookends. "Say cheese," Dennis said as he raised his cell phone.

"Cheese," they all responded and the camera clicked.

Spencer looked to his left and to his right. His family, his legacy was here in this room with him. One day, he'd join his wife and his mother in death, but the next generation would live on and that was all he needed to know.


	22. Magic Coins and Waiting Rooms

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**_Magic Coins and Waiting rooms_**

Spencer stretched his arms over his head and yawned. Of all the places to be on his day off, this was his least favorite. It had to be done, though and there was no getting around it.

He looked up from trying to decide if he wanted to read, when a small girl about seven, with black pigtails, red ribbons in her hair and a matching tee shirt with white pants and sneakers began to cry.

"Jimmy," said a woman with short, ash blond hair and tired green eyes. "Put that down and sit. I won't tell you again."

"Awe, mom," The little boy, playing at a small table built for children whined, then sat and pouted in a chair near Reid.

"I told you, if you can't share the toys, you'll have to sit still and be quiet till the dentist is ready for you."

The little girl stuck her tongue out at the boy, then smiled angelically at what Reid decided was her mother. He shook his head and turned his attention to the little boy sitting in his chair with his head down and swinging his feet.

Spencer slid over one chair. He reached into his bag and pulled out a silver coin. He began to make it dance across his knuckles. He watched the boy out of the corner of his eye while he practiced some of his most basic prestidigitation moves. About two minutes passed before Jimmy glanced over at him. His green eyes widened. "Hey mister, that's neat."

Spencer folded his fingers over the coin and said. "I'll bet you can't guess which hand holds the coin."

"Jimmy," his mother hissed. "Don't bother that man."

"It's okay, ma'am. I hate waiting for the dentist. Might as well make it more bearable."

The mother was staring at him like she was wondering what he was into. He reached into his bag.

He held out his badge. "My name is Spencer Reid. I'm with the FBI."

She relaxed a little upon inspection of the badge. "I'm Suzie and this is my son, Jimmy."

"It's nice to meet you both. I understand that a strange man doing magic tricks for a little boy is unnerving. I'll completely understand if you want me to move away and mind my own business."

Suzie smiled and showed off teeth that looked too perfect to not be the result of a talented dentist. The smile energized her face so that her eyes didn't appear so exhausted.

"I don't mind, Mr. Reid, is it."

"Dr. Spencer Reid, actually. Magic is my hobby. My godson like tricks with coins and when I saw…"

"Mommy, I wanna see the trick."

"Alright, Jimmy, if Dr. Reid doesn't mind then," she gestured to Spencer. "Dr. Jansen seems to be running behind."

Spencer turned back to Jimmy who studied him with an expression of curiosity often found in Henry's eyes.

"Where were we?" Spencer asked the boy

"You said I can guess which hand."

"Oh yes, now watch very closely."

Jimmy watched his hands as they made the coin disappear. Spencer held out both fists, "Which hand?"

Jimmy pointed at Spencer's right hand. "That one."

"Are you sure?"

Jimmy nodded resolutely. Spencer opened his right hand and it was empty. He shook his head. "Hm… I wonder where it could be."

Jimmy pointed at his left hand. "It's in there."

Spencer turned over his hand and it was empty too. "Oh dear, I must have dropped it."

Jimmy automatically looked at the floor. "Wait," Spencer said. "I think I found it."

He reached out and put his right hand under Jimmy's nose. The coin fell out and into Spencer's left hand. "How did that get in your nose?"

"It wasn't in my nose," Jimmy said. "It's a trick, just like on television."

"You don't believe in magic."

"I don't know," Jimmy shrugged.

"When I was your age, I said the same thing, but then my dad gave me this coin and I started practicing tricks that I learned from him."

"Can I see it," Jimmy wanted to know.

Spencer gave him the coin. Jimmy turned it over in his hands. "What kind of coin is it?"

"It's a silver dollar."

"I like it."

A nurse came out to the waiting area and called out Jimmy's name. "It's time to go," his mother said.

"Awe, mom, do I have to?"

"Yes. Thank you," she directed at Spencer.

"You're welcome." He took back the coin and gave Jimmy a smile and a thumbs up.

As they left with the nurse, Spencer reached into his pocket and pulled out another coin. He held them side by side. One of them held the memory of magic for a young boy when he still believed that nothing could hurt his family. The other held the magic of reminding him that no matter what, he had the strength to resist the pull of a poison that once clouded his mind.

He put his medallion back in his pocket and the silver dollar back in a pocket inside his messenger bag.

"Spencer?" The nurse smiled at him when he looked up. "Come on back."

"Do I have to?"

She grinned and it was like the grin of a crocodile. "I promise it'll be a painless as possible."

"That's what they all say."


	23. Family Photos and First Days

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_A/n this chapter is dedicated to my wonderful beta. Thank you for the idea, REIDFANATIC, you're the best._**

**_Family Photos and First Days_**

He surveyed his look in the bathroom mirror. Maybe he should comb his hair back instead of leaving it parted down the side. He pulled on his red sweater with blue, yellow and green pinstripes. The yellow shirt under his sweater wasn't neatly tucked in after his train ride into Quantico, so he hitched it back into place. He sighed and tried to school his face into serious lines. He could do this, after all, he'd made it through training just like every other FBI agent.

He hitched up his lucky messenger bag and rubbed his fingers over the bridge of his nose. Agent Gideon waited for him on the sixth floor to introduce him to his new team. He was going to be late if he didn't get on the elevator.

"You can't hide in the men's room forever."

His reflection didn't argue with him, but then, it was only his face staring back at him from the surface of polished glass. It was stupid to stand here in so much indecision. He was twenty-two years old, an adult, damn it and completely qualified to be here. He nodded, turned to leave, then stopped, pulled his messenger bag off his shoulder and looked at something he'd carried with him since the first day of his training.

The photograph was a little worn around the edge from handling. The white border surrounded two people, a woman with short blond hair and a little boy with dark hair and eyes. She cuddled him in her arms and he was so content just to be with her. They both smiled like people that were truly happy. How long had it been since he'd felt that way?

"I'm scared mom."

Her voice spoke up in his head. "Spencer, what have I always told you," she asked in a rather stern tone.

"That I can excel at anything I want to do."

He could see her smiling at him, and in a softer tone she reminded him. "A mother always knows, sweetheart."

He sighed again, put the photo back in his wallet and the wallet back in the bag. He was a man now. His mother was ill, she couldn't be there and talking to her picture didn't change that now, or ever. He swung the bag over his shoulder and hurried out the door. He was going to be late, and that was unacceptable.

When he stepped off the elevator on the sixth floor, Agent Gideon was on his way out of the bullpen. "Dr. Reid, I meant to meet you downstairs, but as usual a case got in the way. You have your go bag?"

Reid held it up. "Yeah, I'm ready to go."

"Come on then... You'll meet the team and then we have a plane to catch."

Reid hurried along behind Gideon till, he opened the doors to the bullpen. Gideon smiled at him. "Good morning, Dr. Reid and welcome to the BAU."


	24. Card Sharks and Chess Sets

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_**Card Sharks and Chess Sets**_

David Rossi wasn't the kind of man that spent his time in mindless contemplation of the boob tube. He preferred to read or write, or listen to music while sipping his favorite scotch. On this night, he was stuck in a hotel room, on a case and without good reading material.

"I hate television," he said and clicked the remote irritably.

The person on the second double bed in the room, didn't not reply because he was too busy with a book, just like anytime they had down time. His roommate for that case happened to be Dr. Reid. He observed the young man with eyes that saw youth and promise. Dr. Reid was the kind of man that others tended to overlook because they were too shallow to realize the depths under the sweater vests, and daunting intellect.

Reid looked up from his book after closing it shut on the last page. "Did you say something," he asked Rossi.

"No, just thinking a loud."

Reid shoved his book back into his messenger bag. "Want to play poker, I have a deck in my bag."

"I make it a rule never to play poker with a Las Vegas card shark."

Reid shrugged, "I'll play solitaire."

Rossi watched his young teammate play and win three hands of Vegas style solitaire.

"Alright, I give up. I'm bored and if I try to sleep this early I'll toss and turn all night. Deal me in."

Reid made the cards fly through his hands while Dave made himself comfortable at the other side of the double bed. "One difference," he pulled out his wallet. "I play for cash, not junk food."

Reid lifted his eyebrows, "We impose a five dollar limit on bets, and you're on."

"Show me your money," Rossi demanded good-naturedly.

An hour later, all of Rossi's cash was in Reid's hands. He should have seen it coming, but he'd deluded himself into thinking that he'd finesse a win from the younger man. It was all for naught and now he'd have to go to the ATM in the morning.

Reid sat with his back to the headboard and counted his winnings. "Thanks for the game, Dave."

"Savor it while you can because I'm never playing cards with you again."

"Everyone says that, but they always come back for more."

"Watch it, SSA Reid."

"I'm not afraid," said his young friend.

"Spencer," Rossi began and Reid stopped shuffling the cards like a Vegas dealer. "There's a reason why so many rules against practical jokes and the like exist at the BAU. I'm the one they were made for."

"In that case, I don't suppose you'd like to play a game of chess," Reid pulled out his travel set.

"One day, perhaps, but not tonight."


	25. Felines and Yellow Writing Tablets

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**_Felines and Yellow Writing Tablets_**

Reid nearly tripped over his new cat, Chester, when he entered his apartment after another trip to "The Ink and Quill," his favorite bookstore.

"Hey," he scolded the orange tabby. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Chester meowed at him and then turned his back and hurried to the window sill that looked out over the street.

"I know cats are independent, but that doesn't mean you can murder me. Who'll feed you?"

Chester ignored him, so Spencer went to the sofa and put down his new purchases. He'd found several new first edition titles and a modern title that most people wouldn't think to buy for reading at home.

He picked up his messenger bag and began to remove the usual cargo to add his new interest.

Chester jumped up on the sofa and tried to crawl into Reid's lap. "I thought you were ignoring me."

Chester fixed his yellow-green eyes on Reid and stared at him. Reid stared back until Chester swished his tail and began to purr.

"I'm busy," Reid informed him.

The cat swished his tail again and Reid sighed. "Alright, ten minutes but then you have to get down and leave me to my business."

His long fingers began to massage a certain spot behind Chester's neck. The cat's eyes closed and he purred so loudly that Reid chuckled. The cat had simple tastes: food, a litter box, toys to play with and fingers to massage his back. Oh that life were that simple for lowly humans.

"Now get down," Reid put him on the floor after the promised time elapsed. "Your ten minutes are up, my friend. Go patrol and make sure no mice make their home in our walls."

Chester hissed at him and hurried away with his tail in the air. Reid went back to his messenger bag and removed a new lined writing tablet, yellow not white. It had to be yellow for this particular project. He put the tablet on his desk and went to the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, he had reheated leftovers from "The Indian Pearl," and had them at his elbow while his pen moved over the first page of his yellow pad. He stopped frequently to take a bite of his curry, and to consult some of the books in his personal library. At one point, he made a phone call, called in a favor and then went back to his tablet.

It was after two in the morning when he finally put his pen aside and flipped the last page of the last tablet. Chester was asleep on one corner of the sofa when Reid retrieved his messenger bag, removed a manila envelope and added the yellow pages to another sheaf inside.

"I'm finished." he announced to the cat.

Chester's tail flicked up and down once in his sleep. He didn't seem to care what Reid had finished.

"This time it's the perfect plan for world domination and you'll be right there with me."

Chester opened his eyes, blinked once, and then went back to sleep as if there was nothing more important than counting mice.

"You're right," Reid agreed. "It's time for sleep. He returned the envelope, with its new addition to his bag. "There's plenty of time to take over the world, in the morning."


	26. Coffee and Bleak House

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_**Coffee and Bleak Houe**_

The library always made Reid feel like he'd walked into a quiet cave in some distant forest. Despite the modern lines of the building, every time he entered, a calm he never felt in any other setting, dropped over him like a warm blanket. Today it was the same.

He walked past the U shaped desk, used by the employees and to the stacks of books that stretched nearly to the back of the building. Lucy, the librarian with short, choppy chestnut hair attended at the checkout side of the desk. Two teenage girls were checking out books. Another woman hurried by with a huge black purse over her shoulder and a very intense expression of concentration. He could relate to that kind of tunnel vision.

The aisle of books he searched for was to his left. He walked halfway down, and scanned the titles. There, he found the book and pulled it off the shelf. He read the title to double check it was what he needed.

Lucy greeted him as he approached the checkout desk several minutes later. "Hey, Dr. Reid. Only two books today."

"Yes… I only have time for these today."

Lucy's cinnamon brown eyes twinkled at him as she passed the book through the reader. "We're not here to judge."

"I certainly hope not."

"Enjoy," she handed him the book with his library card.

"Thanks."

CMCMCMCMCMCM

"Thanks again for asking me," Dorian said as she fiddled with the edge of her coffee cup.

"You're welcome. Thanks for saying yes."

"Like I said, I hoped you'd ask me. I want to get to know you outside surveillance duty."

"Me too."

She sipped at her coffee. "May I ask you something?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"It's kind of weird, but I was wondering why choose the BAU?"

"I've always wanted to help people."

"There are easier ways," she pointed out.

He finished the last of his coffee. "You're right, but there's always going to be someone out there that chooses violence over reason to deal with their problems. I want to be one of the people that stops them."

Dorian studied him for a minute. "I think there's more to it than that." She held out a hand when he began to speak. "You don't have to go into detail. We just met, after all."

"So, tell me why you decided to join the FBI," he asked after a moment.

"I spent a year in Russia right after college. I followed my boyfriend there when he was hired by a company working on an oil pipeline. After we split up, I came back to the States. The FBI recruited me because of my language skills and I've been working in Organized Crime ever since."

"It's almost eleven," Dorian observed. "I can't believe it's been three hours."

Reid looked at his watch. "I don't want to say good night, but I have to work in the morning."

"I thought you were going to summarize _Bleak House_ for me."

"Actually, I have an idea about that. I hope you won't think I'm too bold, but I really hoped we'd hit it off and I kind of planned for more."

"I'm intrigued."

He reached into his bag and removed a book. He handed it to her and she looked at him in puzzlement. "Bleak House, in Russian. Where did you find this?"

"The library. They have an entire section of translated classics. I borrowed it."

"Why?"

"I thought maybe I could read it to you in Russian."

She stared at him for so long he began to feel his face going red. "You want to read it to me. I don't know, Spencer. I think-"

"I know it's an unusual request, but please let me explain."

"Go ahead," she agreed and inclined her head.

"You see, my mother used to read to me all the time. I thought it was very relaxing, especially before bed. It helped me to sleep when I was a kid. She was ill and it became special time for us and a cornerstone of our relationship."

She had the same expression on her face as when he'd bungled and spoiled the ending of "Great Expectations," so he hurried his explanation.

"I read this article and it said that 7 out of 10 husbands read to their wives at night to help them sleep. The study said that couples that read out loud to each other form closer bonds of intimacy and togetherness. Not that I want us to be intimate," he said very fast. "I mean that I want us to spend more time together and I thought that after a long day on a case I could call you or after – "

"After long day of surveillance," Dorian put in and now she was smiling. "I think it's a great idea. It'll take a lot of time, though.

"I'm fine with that if you are. I want to spend more time with you, Dorian."

"I'm glad you feel that way because I want to spend more time with you, too."

They clinked their coffee mugs together. Spencer took a card out of his messenger bag and handed it to her. "It occurred to me that you were good enough to trust me with your phone number. Here's mine."

"Is this your way of saying you want me to call you first?"

"Yes."

His lovely hazel eyes held hope and something else that she couldn't quite define. It was the mystery that had pulled her in from the beginning that same mystery made her agree to his suggestion. "Tomorrow, then," she said.


	27. Godfathers and Play-Dough

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**_Godfathers and Play-Dough_**

When JJ had packed up for the night, she decided on one last run to the bathroom, before heading home. Ten minutes later, she was nearly to the elevator when she noticed Reid. He'd said he was leaving when she'd gone to the ladies' room, but she could see that he was still at his desk. She sighed and took two steps toward the bullpen, then stopped and watched him. Emily had left to go to London six months before, and he claimed he wasn't mad at her anymore, but… She huffed out another breath. She was overreacting. Reid had long ago forgiven her for her lie. He was fine, they were all great. It was just her guilt making her think twice.

She went into the bullpen just as Reid picked up his messenger bag and put it on his desk. He began going through it as though he were looking for something more important than life itself.

"Spence."

He jumped and whipped around. She almost laughed, but bit the inside of her cheek to keep it down. For an instant annoyance flashed through his eyes, but then he smiled with real pleasure. "I thought you were leaving."

"I thought that same thing about you."

"I was, but then I remembered a last bit of paperwork that needed my signature. Then I remembered a book I needed to return to the library. I'm usually pretty good at taking them back on time, but then we were in Tucson for two weeks, and – anyway, it's not important because I realized I don't have the book in my bag."

"Isn't it too late to return it tonight?"

"I usually drop them in the outside collection box."

"Oh…"

"Yeah, but I did find something while searching my bag."

He handed it to her and she chuckled. "Thanks, Spence, you shouldn't have."

He went a little pink in the cheeks. "I must have put it in my bag without realizing it when I was at your place for brunch last week."

She fingered the yellow plastic container with a red lid. "I remember you and Henry paying with this for hours."

"For some reason, I find Play-Dough very soothing, or perhaps it's Henry that is so calming. He's innocent, and guileless, just like all small children. He reminds me that everyone was once like a child. We all begin the same. I like to remember that after our cases."

JJ smiled a little and nodded. "Yes, he does have that ability, except for when he's throwing a tantrum over no sweets before dinner or bedtime."

Reid laughed again. "None of us are perfect, even three year old boys."

"True."

JJ put the little yellow barrel in her purse. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Want to walk me out."

"Sure."

CMCMCMCMCM

JJ tiptoed up the stairs to Henry's room. The hallway was lit only with a glow from Henry's night light. She avoided the last step that creaked and crossed the hall to Henry's bedroom. His door was open a crack and she could see the top of his blond head.

She pulled the container of Play-Dough out of her purse and put it on the little table next to his bed. "Thanks for making Uncle Spence smile."

He turned over in his sleep so that she could see his beautiful little face. "Good night," she whispered. "Sleep tight, my little star. I love you."


	28. Flight Delays and E Flat Chords

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**_Flight Delays and E Flat Chords_**

"We're in the middle of a case, Reid. What are you doing?"

Reid rolled his eyes in Morgan's direction. "We're not in the middle of a case. We finished and we're stuck here until the fog clears at the airport."

"This isn't what I had in mind to pass the time."

He looked around the small room crowded with racks of sheet music, and guitars hanging on the yellow painted walls. There were other musical instruments set up around the room and in boxes stacked near the narrow pedestrian aisles. A very heavyset man with graying hair and a sour expression duck walked by them to the other side of the store. He went right for the kid behind the cashier station and began to demand to see a manager.

"Glad I'm not in charge," Reid said and went back to his search.

"What are you looking for?

"I told you, I'll know it when I see it."

Morgan rubbed one hand over his bald head. "You're testing me, pretty boy."

"You can leave. I'll catch up with you."

"No way, man. I'm not leaving you alone. You are a magnet for trouble."

"I am not!"

Morgan sighed and metaphorically, if not literally, threw up his hands in defeat. "Arguing with you isn't going to get me anywhere."

Reid shook his head. "No."

"Then hurry. I'm hungry. We were supposed to be meeting the team for dinner when you decided you just had to come into this store." Morgan waved his hands around.

"It's called E Flat. That's a great name, don't you think? Did you know?" He began before Morgan could speak, "that Mozart, Beethoven, Mahler and Chopin all used E Flat major in their compositions. It's considered bold and heroic and –"

"Reid, I swear –"

"Alright, I found what I'm looking for, calm down."

He pulled his selections from the stack of sheet music he'd been searching and went to the cashier. Lucky for Morgan the man who'd demanded the manager was gone and peace was restored to the store. The harassed looking clerk took Reid's selections and his money, wished them a distracted good day and appeared to deflate as soon as they walked out the door. They resumed their walk down the street full of grey and misty fog.

"May we go get something to eat now?"

"I never thought you could be so sarcastic, Morgan."

"Next time, when we're walking to a café for dinner and find a hardware store that might have just what I need for my next flip, you _will_ go inside with me without one word of complaint."

"Deal," Reid said as though agreeing to the cessation of hostilities between warring nations. "I promise," he carefully added the sheet music to his messenger bag. "I can't wait to get home and practice."

Morgan chuckled. He decided not to admit that one day he hoped to hear Reid play his keyboard. He was sure that the young genius would approach it like everything else in his life, with total concentration and passion.

"Come on," he said to his partner. "I'm in the mood for a good steak."


	29. Manicures and Napping on the Jet

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**_Manicures and Napping on the Jet _**

Reid put aside his book and looked around the interior of the jet. Hotch sat at the back as usual and appeared to be talking to someone on the phone. He couldn't hear the conversation, but his boss was smiling, something rare to see.

Morgan was asleep with his headphones on and the light over his seat on low. His hands were crossed over his chest and his head was thrown back. Rossi had pushed back his chair and was sleeping with a book open over his chest.

Emily, JJ and Garcia were at the other end of the jet and they were talking in low voices. It appeared from their faces and their body language that something was wrong. He frowned and put his book down. Perhaps he'd get a cup of coffee and read more of his book. He couldn't sleep and the flight home from Alaska was much longer than their normal "commutes."

"What am I going to do?" JJ was saying as Reid hurried by them to the little kitchen near the bathroom.

"We'll stop at a drug store or something after we get back," Garcia replied. "It's my fault, anyway. I can't believe I forgot my kit."

"It's not your fault," Emily put in. "This trip was unexpected for you. You're not used to packing for the field."

"I have nail polish and remover, but no manicure kit. How does that make sense," Garcia argued. "Don't tell me I was distracted. We planned this last week because it's cheaper than JJ going for a professional set."

"And I appreciate it," JJ soothed. "It's not that big a deal."

"Yeah it is," Garcia retorted. "It's Will. You have a new outfit and shoes…"

Reid tried not to listen, but it was hard not to overhear conversations on the jet. He poured out his coffee, added his usual three teaspoons of sugar and stirred it. He went back to his place on the bench and sipped his coffee. He thought for a long time, started to get up, and then sat back down again. The ladies were still talking quietly when he picked up his bag, removed an item and boldly walked back down the aisle to them.

"Hi, guys."

"Hey, Spence."

"Hi," said Emily and Garcia at the same time.

"Jinx," said Garcia and Emily laughed. Then they all looked up at Reid with expectation on their faces.

"Can we do something for you?" Garcia wanted to know.

Reid put the item from his bag on the table between them. "I heard you talking about a manicure set. I don't have one, but I do have some nail clippers if you need them."

JJ's eyebrows went up, Emily stifled a giggle and Garcia said. "Why are you carrying nail clippers?"

"I get ragged nails every once in a while just like everyone. It has a nail file attached to it," he pointed out.

"I say don't look a gift horse in the mouth." Emily picked up the silver tool.

"Thanks," JJ beamed at him.

"You're welcome."

He left them with his nail clippers and went back to the bench. He decided that sleep was indeed better than reading.

Hours later when the jet touched down, the sun was just coming up over the horizon. Golden rays blinded him, so he pushed down the window cover and stretched. Everyone was getting their bags together and he couldn't wait to get home and get into his own bed and more glorious sleep.

"Hey, Spence." JJ hollered after him as he stepped off the stairs to the tarmac.

"What?"

The three of them hurried to him. "Thanks for the clippers."

"You're welcome."

She held out her hands. "See what Garcia did."

He looked at her nails and noticed they were painted much differently than normal for JJ. "Looks good."

Emily turned her dark eyes on him and he flinched. "That's it. You're a man, and JJ has a special occasion date with Will, and all you can say is it looks good."

"Well, it's very good for the tools you had. I'm not partial to a French manicure, but I'm sure Will's going to like it."

"What do you know about a French manicure?" JJ asked.

"He reads a lot," Garcia and Emily said in unison.


	30. Plaster Casts and Crutch Jokes

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_**Plaster Casts and Crutch Jokes**_

"It's nice to be visiting someone other than Reid for a change," Morgan quipped as he led the team down the hospital hallways.

"Hey," Reid said indignantly. "I haven't been in the hospital since –"

"Last spring in Texas when you had a close encounter with a bullet," Morgan interrupted.

"So did you," Reid pointed out.

"Guys, can we not talk about it," Garcia said.

"Sorry, mama."

Reid looked back a Garcia dressed in a red dress with white lilies on the skirt and red heels. Her blond hair was upswept in one of those complicated hair dos she liked that he didn't understand, but he didn't expect less from her. He smiled at her because she wasn't smiling. Her lips twitched, then smiled then she winked at him as they entered Rossi's hospital room.

He sat propped up in bed with a cast on his leg and a newspaper in his hands. He didn't appear to realize they were there until JJ said. "I think he's faking it."

The newspaper came down so they could see him glaring at them over the top of his glasses. "You think so?"

JJ smirked at him and Kate giggled. "I think it's a good way of getting out of work," JJ responded.

"Then you would be wrong. Where's the nurse so I can get out of here?"

Morgan shrugged. "You know how hospitals can be."

"Yeah, that's why I want out of here, now!"

"Come on, Dave," Hotch's lips twitched with rare amusement. "Don't tell me you don't enjoy pretty nurses waiting on you hand and foot."

"I'd love that, but my nurse is a guy. Where's the fun in that?"

Kate giggled, Morgan snorted and the others laughed out loud as Rossi actually pouted over his newspaper.

"That's the worst damn luck I've ever heard," Morgan said with false pity ringing in his voice.

"No, the worst luck is breaking my leg in the middle of a take down."

"In your defense, he was six foot five and those steps were concrete," Reid put in helpfully.

"Stop trying to make me feel better," Rossi ordered. "I want to get out of here."

"I'll go see what I can find out," Garcia said.

"I'll go with you."

Kate left with Garcia. JJ went to Rossi's bedside. "Do I get to sign your cast?"

Rossi looked at her over the top of his glasses. "If I say yes, will you all stop hovering like a bunch of mother hens?"

"Actually, a grouping of hens is a brood," Reid supplied helpfully.

"Oddly," Rossi said as Morgan snorted out more laughter. "I find that comforting in this place.

Reid smiled broadly.

"Don't let it go to your head, kid."

Kate and Garcia hurried back in. "They won't tell us anything."

Reid opened his mouth and Hotch said. "Reid."

Their favorite genius shrugged and smiled with them. It used to be that he spouted off unusual facts because he was nervous, now he did it on purpose to gently annoy them. It was fun! His eyes went to Rossi, and he realized that Rossi knew it too.

His friend winked slyly at him and said gruffly. "Don't you all have something better to do? I'm not on life support."

"We're here to cheer you up," Garcia said as she took the colorful pen and began to sign his cast.

"I'll cheer up when they bring me a wheelchair to leave."

"I think that crack you took on the head had a bad effect on your personality," Morgan began.

"No, I just hate hospitals. They always overreact and tell you that you need observation. I have a bump on the head and a broken leg. That's all."

"You have a mild concussion," said a man with salt and pepper hair and light grey eyes as he entered the cubicle.

"Hi," he looked around the group. "I'm Dr. Randall. I'm here to see if my patient is ready to be released."

"I was ready six hours ago," Rossi interrupted irritably.

The doctor, who was taller than Hotch and skinnier than Reid only grinned. "You took quite a hit to the head, but I think you'll live."

The others tried to keep straight faces, but Kate and Morgan failed miserably, which earned them all glares from Rossi.

"Why don't the rest of you leave, so I can check him over and okay his release?"

They all left and everyone except for Reid, decided on a late breakfast in the hospital cafeteria. "You don't have to wait up here," Morgan said.

"I'll wait for Rossi to be released and bring him down."

"You're sure."

"Yes. Go away."

After the doctor exited several minutes later, he reentered the room. Rossi sat on the edge of the bed and was trying to get the shoe on his good foot. "Let me help," Reid said.

"I'm fine, I don't need help."

"I know what it's like to be short a working leg," Reid reminded him.

Rossi finally smiled. "Yeah, I remember. As I recall you tried to return to work without medical authorization."

"Am I never going to live that down?"

"No."

Reid reached into his bag. "Anyway, I brought something for you."

He handed a book over to Rossi who immediately began to chuckle. "This is perfect."

Reid grinned then began to laugh as Rossi flipped through, _101 Crutch Jokes._

"Morgan bought this for me when I got shot and I thought it was time to pass it on."

"It's perfect, thanks."

"You're welcome."

The nurse came in and gave Rossi his release paper and prescriptions, ten minutes later.

"That wheel chair is the best thing I've seen all morning," Rossi said.

"I say the same thing every time I leave the hospital," Reid agreed.

"Yes, but you have enough time in hospitals to own controlling stock," Rossi pointed out.

"Come on," Reid grabbed the handles on the wheelchair and began to push. "Let's get out of here."


	31. Custom Blend and Discount Sludge

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_A/n I made some changes to this chapter after posting. I was made aware of some very offensive language in the chapter. I have edited it and I want to say I'm deeply sorry for anyone I may have offended with this chapter. It was not my intention at all. I hope you will forgive me. Thank you all again for reading and your support. _**

**_Custom Blend and Discount Sludge _**

Reid stretched his arms over his head, drew in a deep breath and groaned. He looked at his watch and frowned. It was only eleven and already he felt like he'd been working nonstop for hours. He looked at his coffee cup, a black mug with a Department of Justice logo in gold stamped on one side. It was depressingly empty.

Emily was in the break room when he entered for another hit of his favorite beverage. He raised his eyebrows when she cursed, rather creatively in Russian, he had to admit. She slammed one of the cabinet doors, then turned on him when he inquired. "What's wrong?"

"No coffee!"

"What?" He squeaked in dismay. "Why?"

"Someone forgot to bring in the good stuff. All we have is the cheap stuff the powers that be so graciously provide us with," she explained irritably. "How do they expect us to work with this stuff?" She hefted a coffee can the size of a small barrel in both hands then let it drop with a bang on the counter top. "They think buying in bulk means quality for less."

"I can't drink this," Reid pointed at the canister. "It tastes like – well I could use one of Morgan's terms, but I usually don't talk like that."

Emily finally smiled, then her eyes narrowed again. "Morgan," she snapped. "Today's the first, right?"

"Yeah," Reid agreed and a light went off, "You're right, it is the first and its Morgan's turn to buy coffee for the team."

"Reid, are you up for an intervention?"

Reid rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, let's go talk to him."

JJ entered the break room just as they were leaving. Reid noticed the white mug with a rainbow, a red heart and the words, "World's Best Mommy," on one side.

"No coffee," Emily informed her. "We're on our way to have a little chat with Morgan. Want to join us?"

JJ smiled and it was the smile she always reserved for the press when about to give a statement deliberately short of useful information. "You bet I do."

They trooped up the stairs and down the hall past Rossi's office. He was on his way out when they passed looking like a posse from an old time spaghetti western.

"Dare I ask where you're going?"

"To see a man about some coffee," Emily said over her shoulder.

Rossi decided that watching the young ones go after Morgan, especially when Morgan obviously didn't know they were gunning for him, was infinitely more entertaining than paperwork. He followed along at a sedate pace with a smirk firmly in place.

Emily opened the door without knocking and found Morgan with Garcia. She had his phone in her hand and was saying. "See, all you have to do is download this app and –"

"Morgan," Emily interrupted and her eyes were sparking.

Reid looked over at Rossi, who was losing the battle with his amusement. JJ had her hands on her hips and an expression he'd come to recognize from when Henry was naughty.

"Thanks for knocking," Morgan was saying.

"Did you forget something?" Emily demanded.

Morgan was smart enough to realize that his teammates weren't there for chit-chat. "I don't know what you're talking about, Emily."

"The coffee," JJ chimed in. "All we have in the break room is the crap the government supplies."

"So, it's Reid's turn," Morgan said in a dismissive tone.

"No, it's your turn," Reid argued.

"Um, I hate to gang up on you, chocolate thunder, but Reid's right. I made up the calendar, remember?"

Morgan's expression conveyed that Garcia was no longer his baby girl, for at least the rest of the day. She shrugged and patted his arm. "Sorry, Derek."

"Alright, so I forgot. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that the government supplied stuff tastes like shit. "

"Wow, JJ, do you kiss your mother with that mouth."

"Very funny."

"You look like you want to draw blood," Morgan directed at JJ.

"Good idea. You are the one that did my remediation, after all. I think I can take you."

"You think so," Morgan's eyes lit up for the challenge."

"Guys, I have a better idea," Reid interrupted as he reached into his bag and pulled out a red box with a logo boasting the name "Custom Roast."

"I found this online." He held it out.

JJ's eyes went huge with greed. "Hey, is that coffee?"

"Yeah, it's my emergency supply."

Morgan grinned at him. "I knew I could count on you."

"This isn't for you," Reid informed him. "Come on guys, let's go down to the break room."

They filed out of the office, leaving Morgan behind with Garcia who was trying to sooth him with an offer of some of her tea.

When they got to the break room, JJ took the box from Reid. "Oh man, you got my favorite flavors."

She reached in and took the Almond Amaretto. It was only a single serve and the box only held a dozen, but at least they'd have caffeine enough to get them through the rest of the day, hopefully.

"Thanks, Reid," Emily said as she took the Chocolate Raspberry.

"You're a good man," Rossi slapped him on the back. "The Irish Cream will do me just fine."

The line at the microwave was quite festive when Garcia and Hotch entered the room. "Can I have one?" She asked with an expression of remorse at fraternizing with the enemy.

"Of course, where's Morgan."

"Sulking in his office," she took the Cinnamon Nut Swirl.

"Too bad," JJ commented as she pulled her mug of boiling water out of the microwave and dropped in her serving of coffee.

"May I try one?" Hotch asked Reid.

"Ah, yes sir."

Hotch took the Hazelnut flavor and joined the line at the microwave. Reid pulled out one of the Swiss Mocha Almond and smiled. One could argue that doing without coffee might do them all some good. He thought about it and shuddered a little. No, why go without when all he had to do was place an online order and all was right with the world.


	32. Godiva Chocolates and Frakenstein Masks

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

_**Godiva Chocolates and Frankenstein Masks**_

Reid dropped his Frankenstein mask over his face and hurried to the door when the bell rang. "I give the candy," cried Henry who followed along after Reid.

"Yes, but what did I say?" Reid stopped just before opening the door.

"Uncle Spence, open the door."

"That's right."

He opened the door and growled loudly as he raised his hands out as if to attack. The person in front of him only rolled her eyes. "I've seen that before," she said.  
The black night outside the door was full of the sounds of laughing children and the parents calling out for them to 'behave, and "come over here, right now!" It was chilly and the moon was full and white overhead.

He pulled off his mask again and grinned at her. "Aren't you a little old to be out trick or treating?"

"Aunt Emily," Henry grabbed her around her legs in a hug before she could answer.

"Hey, Henry. That's a great costume."

"Uncle Spence do it."

Henry wore a tiny black cloak with a hump on his back. His face was painted grey with one eye enlarged with black paint, and shadows under his cheek bones to hollow out his face.

"Let me guess, you're Igor."

Henry nodded his head. "Yep."

"I think you look great."

She led him into the interior of JJ and Will's house. She observed that carved jack o lanterns with flickering candles sat on the floor and on the small table near the door. A black witch's cauldron was about half full candy and apples.

"Looks very festive in here," Emily was saying as Henry led her into the living area.

"Thanks, JJ sort of gave me free rein as she and Will aren't here. I have to clean it all, though."

"Then we better enjoy it while we can."

Reid stopped in the archway to the living area. "Um, why are you here?"

Henry was showing Emily the candy he'd received on his trip to the mall for their annual in-store trick or treat.

"Garcia told me about her plans tonight with Kevin. So, I decided you might want some company."

"Ah, yeah, thanks."

She grinned at him. "You're welcome."

Three hours later, Henry was asleep in his bed, having been persuaded to have his face washed and his little costume removed, only by the promise that Reid would visit the next time he had a free weekend.

Emily was curled up in Will's easy chair with a mug of hot cider. She was watching the original "Halloween," when Reid returned from checking on his godson.

"He's finally asleep."

"Good," She left her place in the chair and joined Reid on the couch.

He pulled her into his arms when she cuddled up next to him. "Thank you…" He whispered and kissed her forehead.  
"For what?"

She nuzzled his neck so that his brain began to go a little fuzzy, as it always did whenever she touched him.

"For coming here tonight. We haven't had time alone for three weeks."

"Oh, believe me, it's no hardship."

She leaned up to lay her lips on his, for seconds that seemed to go one for hours, and yet it was as brief as shooting star across the heavens. Her raven hair was almost indistinguishable from the darkness of the room, but the glow of the television couldn't hide her eyes and how they loved him with their intensity.

"Still, thank you all the same."

On screen, one character screamed as a man in a pale, white mask stalked her with implacable strides through the midnight dark.

"Why do you like to watch these movies?"

He reached over and took her hand in a tight grasp. "Because make believe is a thousand times better than reality. Don't you think?"

"I suppose."

They sat quietly watching the screen until the movie reached its conclusion. She realized that although Reid still held her, he was asleep.

"Hey," she shook his shoulder. "Wake up."

He opened his eyes and blinked. "Sorry, I guess I'm still tired from our last case."

She put her arms around his neck and hugged him close. "I'm just glad it's over and that we have this time together."

"Me too."

"I think I want some of the left over candy, though."

Reid chuckled. "It's funny that you should bring up sweets because there's something I want to give to you."

He untangled from her and went into the kitchen. He stopped long enough to get a new cup of coffee before grabbing his messenger bag. He took it into the living room where another movie was beginning on the television.

She looked up at him as he stood there in the half-light from the hallway to the front door. She couldn't see his face, but there was something in his hand.

"I bought this for you." He sat and handed her a chocolate bar.

"Oh wow… Godiva dark chocolate with raspberry filling."

She tore off the wrapper and bit off one square. She sighed greedily and then narrowed her eyes at him. "How did you know this is my favorite?"

"A couple of weeks ago when we had that stupendously boring day of paperwork. You had one of these and you were sneaking bits all afternoon."

"I wasn't sneaking… damn it, Spencer."

He was grinning at her like a cat with a belly full of tuna and she wanted to smack him. He was too cute, though, sitting there with his hair mussed from constantly pulling off and replacing his Frankenstein mask.

"It's okay," he went on as if he didn't see the irritation in her dark eyes. "I like chocolate too."

"That's great to know, but you're not getting any of this." She waved it at him and then took another large bite.

"Emily!"

"No! You've been snacking from the candy cauldron all night. It's a wonder there was enough left for the kids."

"That's a gross over exaggeration," he said loftily.

"Whatever… Just keep your hands off my Godiva."He put his arm around her shoulders despite her implied threat. She put her head on his chest and said. "Thanks for the candy, Spencer and Happy Halloween."


	33. Potato Chips and Clothes Hangers

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

_**Potato Chips and Clothes Hangers **_

When Reid turned the corner to the break room, he had to stop short in surprise. The normally calm and collected Kate was banging her fist on the candy machine.

"Damn it," she swore and kicked at it. "Ouch," she hissed and swore again in words that made his eyebrows go into his hair.

"Um, everything okay."

She turned on him with a look that promised violence, then she seemed to deflate. "Sorry, I didn't realize I was making so much noise."

"I think everyone's gone. I'm just here for another cup of coffee. I still have an hour's work on my desk from our last case."

She looked at her watch and sighed. "Me too, Chris and Megan are going to forget what I look like."

"So, why were you kicking the candy machine," he asked because she still had fire in her eyes.

"Dumb machine, my chips are stuck."

She pointed and he got closer to see that the bag was indeed defying gravity by sitting horizontal across the opening below and out of reach because of the flap.

"You can't shake one of these things lose," she groused. "I'm craving sour cream and onion potato chips and that was my last dollar."

He opened his mouth, then shut it when she shot him a look. "I know I'm supposed to watch what I eat, but the doctor said to pay attention to my cravings."

"Actually, women tend to crave certain foods at different times in their pregnancies. Your body is telling you, that you need specific nutrients and –"

"There you go, showing off again," she interrupted, but she smiled, so he grinned back. "I know all of that," she informed him.

He shrugged, then he held up one finger. "I think I have something that might help."

He left the room and about two minutes later returned with his messenger bag. He put it on the table and began to rummage about inside.

"Reid, what are you looking for?"

He didn't answer until he pulled something long and thin from the inner recesses of the bag. "Ah, ha, I knew I forgot to remove these."

"What is that?"

It was a long, thin, but rounded piece of metal with what looked like the top half of a question mark, bent into one end, like a hook.

"It was part of a metal hanger," he said as if it should be obvious.

"Why do you have part of a clothes hanger in your bag?"

"In a minute," he bent, pushed open the flap to the candy machine and maneuvered the homemade hook up and through a slim opening beneath the bag. He poked at it twice and then it fell with a satisfied crunch into the retrieval space below the flap. He reached in, grabbed the bag and pulled it out.

"Thank you," she grabbed it greedily and tore into the bag. "Did you ever smell anything so wonderful?" She inhaled as though it were a fine wine.

She seemed to forget he was there as she began to crunch her first chip. He put the bent wire into his bag, got another cup of coffee and went back to his desk.

An hour later, he was at the elevator when Kate joined him. "Oh," she sighed and rotated her neck. "I'm so tired I could sleep for days."

"Me too."

The elevator arrived and they were between floors four and three when Kate said. "You forgot to explain the hanger."

"I made them yesterday before I went to the cemetery. I needed something to secure a small plant I found for Maeve's grave."

"I'm sorry, Reid…"

"It's okay," he smiled for her as they left the elevator. "I'm still counting the days, but it doesn't hurt the way it did last year."

"I'm glad."

"Anyway, I found on-line that you can make this stake, as I call it, from metal clothes hangers. I had a couple of extras and I forgot to take them out of my bag."

"I'm glad," she said. "Otherwise that potato chip bag would still be stuck."

"I'm happy to be of service."

They left the building together and into the cold air of early spring. They separated at the end of the walk, he for the train station and she to her car. He wondered as he walked through the night if there would come a day when he would stop counting. Perhaps he would, but Maeve would always live in his heart, even if he found the strength to let someone else break through the walls that protected his soul.


	34. Doors and Keys

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_Doors and Keys_**

Her door mocked him with its invitation and the knowledge that she wouldn't answer if he accepted that invitation and knocked. He stared at it, at the door knob, and the lock which barred all who were unwelcome.

He couldn't stop thinking about the double meanings of doors in literature and art. They symbolized opportunity and closure at the same time. You open a new door and find either welcome or rebuff. You close a door and leave behind you time spent, passion sated, and anger expressed.

He didn't believe in closure, except the literal closing of a door in every-day life. Doors weren't anything but what they appeared, the way between rooms or the path to life in the outside world. They held no special meaning and they certainly had no power to bring back the one he loved.

The key inside his messenger bag called to him until he couldn't stand it. _This is what you came for!_

Yes, it was what he'd come for, but seeing her door, free of yellow crime scene tape and missing the police seal, sliced savagely at his heart until he thought he might scream with the pain of it.

He took the key ring from his bag and pushed it into the lock before he had the chance to turn away and run as fast as he could to the comfort of his own bed. It turned with a click that seemed much louder than in should have been and he winced.

Inside, he keyed off the alarm and shut the door on black darkness, broken only by ambient light streaming in from the window at the end of the hallway. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about the familiar surroundings, but all he could was smell, was the lavender oil she always sprayed around the apartment.

"_It reminds me of spring." _

_He held her in his arms on the sofa as they watched the lights of the city from one of her windows. He inhaled deeply and smiled as he felt his body relax. Her hair tickled his cheek and she was as soft, and warm, as a duvet on a cold winter night. _

"_I like it." _

"_No comeback about the restorative properties of the scent or one of the hundred other things I know you have stored in your brain." _

"_No, I just want to sit here with you." _

_She turned her head and claimed his lips. "I love you," she whispered and it was like a prayer. _

He opened his eyes before tears could begin and switched on his flashlight. He couldn't bear to turn on her lights. Seeing this place in the harshness of artificial light was too much to contemplate. He swung it around as he walked and tried not to feel the gut wrenching pain as flashes of her life brightened and blackened, again and again. He saw the lamp on her bedside table when he entered the room and he had to shut off the flashlight and close his eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood.

"_You're going to be sorry you said that," she whispered as she grabbed his tie and yanked him forward. _

_Her mouth on his, prevented him from attempting to explain. Instead, he completely lost every coherent thought because her hands found his ass and pulled him flush to her heaving chest. He was hot, as hard as steel and it was only she in his head. _

_She pushed him backward and he tripped. They stumbled apart, but didn't fall. He began laughing as she tugged at him again and pulled him around in a circle. _

"_Emily…" _

"_You're in big trouble." _

'_I-"_

"_Shut up… I'm hot and I need you to cool me down." _

_He answered by applying his lips to her mouth. She tried to go for his neck, but he pulled her around again to push her onto the bed. She stumbled and he fell into the night table. The lamp fell with a crash to the floor and the bulb shattered._

"_If you want it in the dark, all you had to do was say so." Emily said, as they began to laugh. _

He opened his eyes and turned the flashlight to leave the room. He couldn't do this. Coming here had been a huge mistake. What had he hoped to find here, when she was gone and he'd never see her again? The white glow of the flashlight played over the sofa and he couldn't stop the memory of the last time he'd sat there with her.

"_I won't leave you alone." _

"_You have to. It's too dangerous." _

_He slid away from her and left the couch. She watched him from her place with eyes that were full of pain and fear. He decided to look out one of the window instead of into her eyes, because he couldn't take their intensity. _

"_I don't understand why you won't tell me what's going on." _

"_You don't have clearance." _

_The matter of fact tone she took with this announcement sent his blood boiling and his heart thumping. His hands fisted as he fought temper down into his belly where it burned and roiled. _

_He drew in a huge breath. "You once told me that you'd spent time undercover. You never told me the details. I know you can't discuss it and I'm trying not to take that personally, but I can help you, Emily. Please let the team help you." _

"_I can't." _

"_Why?"_

_He turned around because he couldn't stand the icy anger and outright dismissal in her voice. "I'm not a child, Emily." _

"_I never said you were." _

"_Yes, you did. You think I can't take care of myself. You still see me as that man-child you met three years ago. I'm not that person, damn it. I –"_

"_I know you can take care of yourself," she shot back at him and the rage was palpable in the room. It fed on itself and them. _

"_Then why are you telling me to leave and stay away for some indeterminate time period for my own safety, because of some old case that you can't talk about because I don't have clearance." _

"_Spencer –" _

"_No… don't…" he threw out his hands as though to ward off a blow. "I'm so sick of everyone treating me like their baby brother."_

"_I'm trying to protect you." _

"_No, you're trying to shut me out. You think –" _

"_I love you!" She shouted and bolted off the couch. "So much I can't think straight."_

"_But you are thinking straight about this," he retorted. "You're without a doubt, one hundred percent, entirely sure that you're thinking straight about confronting someone from your past, someone that you're so terrified of, you can't look me in the eye when you talk about him."_

"_I never said this was about a person." _

"_You don't have to," he said calmly. "I figured it out on my own." _

"_Stop profiling me!"_

"_No… I couldn't even if I wanted to. You've always been distant, Emily. In all the time I've know you, you've never truly let go. You say you love me but you've never really opened up to me. There's always been this space between us, even when our bodies are wrapped around each other and I can't tell where you begin and I end." _

_Tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks as he spoke. Pain seared his heart, but he forced it back and resisted the urge to go to her and hold her until it was alright. It'd never be alright. He knew it. _

"_You're right," he said before she could speak. "I should go."_

"_Spencer!"_

_He shook his head and cleared his throat to hold back the tears that were threating to break free from his control. "No, you're the one that wants me to stay away. I'll go, but don't be surprised if I'm not there when you deal with your loose end and decide it's okay for me to come back." _

He opened his eyes again and stared at the couch. He sat and ran his hands over the fabric. It didn't hold her warmth anymore.

"If only I'd known... Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you let me help you?"

He thought he'd cried until there were no more tears left, but more rolled over his cheeks, and his chest felt like it might explode and lay open his shattered heart for all to see. He shouldn't have come here. It was too soon. He couldn't handle the memories and the rage that threatened to overwhelm him.

"I wish…"

He shook his head and stood. The flashlight wavered in his shaking hand. The white light stuttered like a strobe light in some fancy club. He stumbled around the furniture and down the hallway to her entryway table where he let the key to her apartment fall with a clang. It bounced and nearly slid from the table, but he ignored it.

"Goodbye…"

He said it to the empty and silent apartment that was devoid of her presence and absent of her love. It was time to move on, no matter the pain.

He shut the door behind him and as it clicked shut, he realized for the first time what they meant about closure, literal and figurative. You can close the door, but you can never really have closure.


	35. Rulers and Paper Airplanes

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_A/n here's the last chapter. Thank you all for your kind support and your honest feedback. _**

**_Rulers and Paper Airplanes_**

Morgan was fascinated. The subject of said fascination was Dr. Spencer Reid. Normally – can one use the word normal in conjunction with his young partner – he would have begun pestering Reid by now, but he couldn't stop staring at the items on Reid's desk.

His friend had two pieces of white paper, from the copier, Morgan supposed, a ruler, from his messenger bag, and a pencil. He was making measurements and drawing lines on one piece of paper. He wrote something on the second piece of paper and then picked up the sheet with the measurements.

Morgan watched him begin to fold the paper. Reid stopped, measured again and drew more lines on the folded paper. Morgan couldn't take it anymore. Reid had begun to mutter to himself and run his fingers over the paper as if it were the most important item in his life.

"What are you doing, kid?"

"Don't call me, kid," Reid retorted.

Morgan grinned down at his young partner, who fiddled with the sheet of white copy paper. "You know I only call you that to get a rise out of you."

Reid spoke, but did not look up from his task. "I know, Morgan."

"Then why do you respond?"

"Because it's what we do," he folded the paper into a triangle and turned it over. "Go away, I'm busy."

"You're not busy," Morgan contradicted. "You're playing with the piece of paper, instead of working on your files."

"I'm finished with my current workload."

Reid informed him and continued working on his "project." The white paper was beginning to resemble a paper airplane, but that couldn't be right. Morgan stepped close enough to see what he supposed, were mathematical equations, or formulas, or something.

Reid made more measurements, noted them on the second piece of paper and then went back to work on the paper airplane. "Stop staring at me," Reid commanded.

"I can't, I'm trying to figure out what you're doing."

Reid heaved a sigh that conveyed extreme displeasure. Morgan grinned despite the Reid's obvious irritation. "I found the perfect design for a paper airplane. This one will beat your best" He held up the finished product.

Morgan snorted laughter. "Is this about the paper airplane war we had with Emily the other day?"

"Yes."

"It was just for fun, man. You don't have to take it so seriously."

"Yes, I do!"

"Alright, Dr. Reid, you're on. Right now."

Morgan found a stray sheet of paper and quickly folded it into a sleek paper plane. "Best out of three," he challenged.

"As you say," Reid drew back his arm, "Bring it on."

Morgan counted three, and they threw together. Morgan's plane soared high the first ten feet, then banked hard to the left and fell onto the walkway between the bullpen and the conference room. Reid's plane flew straight and level, for five feet past Morgan's plane, and then glided down to a stop on the floor just in front of a large file cabinet.

"Yes," Reid shouted and threw both arms into the air.

Two other agents in the bullpen glared at them, but Morgan and Reid ignored them as they went to retrieve their "fighter jets," as Morgan called them when he wanted to be cute.

"That was an anomaly."

"No, that was perfect aerodynamics at work."

"Call it what you want, pretty boy, but it was a one-time thing."

Reid smirked at Morgan as his fried waved a finger at him. "Come, on, two more."

They returned to their desks and prepared to "launch," again just as JJ and Emily entered the bullpen. Emily rolled her eyes as they approached. JJ simply sighed in resignation, leaned against her desk and crossed her arms in preparation to watch what she thought would be another defeat, courtesy of Morgan's greater, "fire-power."

They threw in unison, and as before, Reid's plane flew further and faster toward the file cabinet. This time Reid's plane banked right and landed on top of Agent Anderson's desk.

"Yes!"

Morgan narrowed his eyes at Reid's plane. "Alright, I want to throw that thing."

"No."

Emily lifted her eyebrows at Reid's tone. She'd never heard him that resolute. How would Morgan respond to it?

"Come on, man. I just want to look at it."

"You can see it just fine," Reid retrieved his plane and brought it back to his desk. Hotch and Rossi appeared at the door of Rossi's office at that moment. Neither of them said anything to the team, but Rossi had a slight smile on his face. "Fifty on Reid," he said quietly to Hotch.

"No bet," Hotch responded.

Rossi smirked in response, but didn't say anything as the argument continued below. This was going to interesting.

"No," Reid was saying for the third time. "You're perfectly capable of making your own plane. My design is confidential."

Morgan grinned his best "trust me," grin. "I saw the mathematical doodles on your desk. I couldn't figure it out if I spent the rest of my life working on it."

"True," Reid agreed and JJ burst out laughing at Morgan's expression.

"Oh, that's hilarious."

"Let it go," Reid suggested.

"Fine by me, but next time, I'll be ready for you."

Reid simply sat and admired his design. "I don't think so."

"May I see it, please?"

"Of course," Reid handed over the plane to Emily, who took it with a smile and exaggerated wink in Morgan's direction.

"Hey," he complained. "What's so special about her?"

"She asked nicely."

"Yeah, a little politeness goes a long way," JJ put in.

"You, stay out of it," Morgan commanded testily.

JJ saluted him, with her middle finger, which made the other agents in the room clap. Morgan rolled his eyes and went back to his desk in defeat.

"You called it," Rossi observed.

"Never bet against the house," Hotch reminded him.

"That's a terrible cliché."

"But accurate," Hotch's lips twitched and he smiled with real pleasure. "Come on, let's get back to work."

"So," Emily was saying. "Will you teach me how to make one?"

"No."

"What happened to, "a little politeness goes a long way?" Morgan put in.

"I have to protect my ability to wipe the floor with you on a regular basis."

"I think you're way too overconfident," Emily countered.

"We'll see."

"I think we need to have a rematch."

"I'm good with that," Reid accepted.

Morgan could only shake his head as he watched. In four years, much had changed about Reid and much had stayed the same. If he wanted to assert himself, even if it was only to protect a "paper airplane design," then Morgan wouldn't stand in his way.


End file.
